Angel of Mercy
by mistressofrevels
Summary: Kate Medeiros is a nursing student from New England who fell on hard times. She thinks there is no end to her suffering, until she gets the break she was looking for- signing on to be the new Oncology nurse at Princeton-Plainsboro. Under the tutelage of James Wilson, she realizes her dream, and they learn lessons beyond the scope of the care they provide each day.
1. Chapter 1 - New Opportunities

_Chapter 1: New Opportunities_

"I think you should take it, Kate. You'd be nuts not to!" Christine told me as we ate hot dogs in the park.

"I know, I know." I sighed. "But I've been down so long, what if this is too good to be true?"

"You can't stay stuck forever!" Christine insisted. "Besides…" she added, wiping mustard off her lips. "Nurses almost never retire! They're like docents in a museum – tenured and too stubborn to leave unless they're forced out or finally cave and admit they're too old."

"That's true." I admitted. "Betty was…seventy-something, I believe. They had her retirement party at some ritzy hotel last week. I think she went of her own volition, though. And from what I gather she was very popular."

"Even still! This is your shot. Life's handed you lemons and you've made enough lemonade to last the next quarter century…" Christine laughed slightly.

I exhaled somewhat exasperatedly through my nose at the re-visitation of three years' hard luck.

Christine was unfazed. "Look, I've known you've wanted to help people since you could pick up a crayon."

"I do." I said.

"And this Dr. Wilson guy seems like he'd be a good fit for you to work with, given what you've told me." Christine said.

"It's not like I know the man's life story or anything!" I chuckled. "I just know that Dr. Cuddy appointed him to head of Oncology because he genuinely cares about his patients, and that's what cancer patients need."

"Of course." Christine nodded in understanding. "You're caring too; this is why you'd be a fine working pair. Don't you see?"

"Yeah…" I replied, a little confused by my friend's approach. "I'm just a little skeptical of the offer, can you really blame me?"

"No, honestly, I would be too given your financial woes." Christine admitted.

"Which I'm still not entirely through yet, by the way." I noted ruefully. "Lunch time is going to be embarrassing for sure. Ramen noodles and squishy peanut butter sandwiches. Oh joy."

"No one's going to judge you for that!" The expression Christine wore was a trifle incredulous.

"And it's not like I'm going to be divulging that much of my personal life at work anyway." I said, amending my earlier statement.

"Trust me on this, Kate. Life is turning around for you." Christine said, tending to the depths of her purse, trying to find her cell phone which was buzzing.

"Ah crap…" I heard her sigh as she listened to the voicemail of her missed call. "Mr. Jones broke out of his room again."

"Really?" I mused.

"Fourth time this week." She shook her head. "I love the elderly, I do, but sometimes they can make you mental, you know?"

I nodded, a corner of my mouth pulling to one side. "Should we wrap this up then?"

"Yeah, probably. I better get going." She said, standing to throw away what remained of the food.

"I hope everything works out." I said.

"Thanks, you too!" she smiled, adding quickly. "When do you start again?"

"This coming Monday." I said.

"I'll be expecting a full report!" she called as she walked away.

I saluted in response, collecting my own belongings, and turned to head back to my apartment.


	2. Chapter 2 - Training Day

_Chapter 2: Training Day_

The alarm screamed as I stirred. It being early winter, the sky outside was still a cold black.

I padded over to the Keurig machine after slipping on my bathrobe, making a cup of the strongest available Donut Shop blend. Being that most weeks, I only had about fifty bucks to my name if I was lucky; before I got help I was surprised I was still able to afford the thing. It really was a nice housewarming present from Christine though. My mother was an angel from above as well, sending me care packages that had basic food staples and the K-cups inside, among other sundries.

I was inwardly grateful that I laid out my ONCC certification, RN license, a copy of my RN application, proofs of clinical experience and contact hours logged, and my OCN certification on the dining room table the night before.

Surely Princeton-Plainsboro had all of this on file from the job application process, but I thought it couldn't hurt to have the documentation on hand just in case. That's when I realized I forgot a copy of my W-2 for the I-9 form.

"Damn it." I muttered, going to rummage for it in my stupor. It somehow ended up at the back of the top drawer of the china cabinet, mercifully not mangled or torn in any way. I immediately put it with the rest of the paperwork, finishing my coffee in a firm swig.

The clock chimed six as I walked into the bathroom to get ready, turning the shower radio to the morning show on Z100.

Belting out "Walking on Sunshine" as I washed up, I kept any nervous thoughts at bay. No doctor I dealt with now could be worse than Dr. Stern, who supervised clinical hours. That man could make the devil himself look as cuddly as a teddy bear.

I shivered as I stepped out of the tub to dry off, making sure the towel didn't disturb any hair pins, dressing in a plain black shirt with a little bit of tonal lace on the v-neck and cuffs, and black work pants, as I hadn't received my scrubs yet. Sliding my feet into flat Mary Jane shoes, I stood up, unpinning and brushing my hair, pulling it back with tortoiseshell barrettes. I slid a white gold medal of Saint Agatha around my neck, a present from my mother at the start of nursing school. I wasn't particularly religious, but appreciated the gesture just the same.

As my morning routine drew to a close, thoughts of what I endured floated through my brain. Six years of nursing school. Being in debt up to my eyeballs. Three years of agonizing waits for unemployment checks, money orders from home, long hours and sleepless nights of studying, eating when and if I could, and drifting from a host of minimum wage jobs just to barely stay ahead of rent, loans, and tuition. Months of waiting and wishing that a new job—a real career— would come through. That call from Dr. Lisa Cuddy was the ladder up from the mud hole I needed – even if at first blush I wasn't too trusting.

I must have cried for hours after finishing our conversation. Most of it was relief that finally, I was getting somewhere. My dream of helping people was coming true. I remembered the first time I knew my calling. It was after I helped a neighborhood boy from a fall on his skateboard. My pretend doctor's kit had actual band-aids and ointment inside that I put there before anyone was wise to it. What good was a toy when the real thing was better? I thought. Not bad for a seven year old.

The other bit of what I felt was deep seated fear. What if this situation would crash and burn like the others? What if the hospital was only building me up and the job turned out not so rosy? The rational part of me knew that didn't make any sense. Even to those feeling lowest of the low this position was a golden opportunity. Christine was right; I'd be a fool not to take it.

I gathered my papers into a folder and tossed that, my lunch, my cell phone, and my keys into a messenger bag, slinging it and my pea coat over my shoulders, catching the six-thirty bus.

The twenty minute ride breezed by like nothing as I watched the brick gates of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital gleam warm in the early light. My feet bounced in anticipation against the rubber mat on the floor as we pulled in to the stop about a block up.

Wishing the driver a good day upon descending to the street below, I walked briskly inside, eager to find Dr. Cuddy's office. Studying the directory carefully, I found it with no trouble, thoughtfully rubbing my Saint Agatha medal for luck.

Knocking on her door at seven on the dot, she opened it and greeted me with a bright smile. "Hello, Kate! Nice to see you again!" she said.

"You also, Dr. Cuddy." I replied shyly.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." She said, gesturing to a plush looking beige couch. "May I get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?"

"Oh some coffee would be great, thank you." I smiled, taking a seat, and she went over to the machine on the table behind her desk to make it.

"You'll be doing the cut and dried stuff this morning – filling out your I-9, licensure information, and the personal data sheet for your staff file." She began. "Then once you're finished with that, you'll have your picture taken for your wallet ID card and badge, and I'll give you a full tour of the hospital. You'll have an opportunity to meet your new boss, Dr. Wilson, as well."

"That all sounds excellent!" I said happily as she handed me the steaming mug. "And thanks for this." I added, raising it.

"You're welcome." She said, smiling again. "We're happy to have you aboard."

I nodded and got to work on the forms. As my hand started to cramp and I thought I'd signed my life away, the door opened, and a man with bright blue eyes and a cane adorned with yellow and orange flames limped his way in.

Just as I was thinking to myself that his cane was pretty cool, but I felt bad and also curious for why he had it— he looked from Dr. Cuddy to me, taking in my red painted lips and curled hair, and asked: "Who's she? A cast off from The Andrews Sisters?"

"_No_," she replied pointedly as I blushed. "This is Wilson's new nurse, Kate Medeiros."

"_Oh_…" the still yet unfamiliar man noted sarcastically.

"Kate, please meet Dr. Greg House, Head of Diagnostic Medicine." She awkwardly tried to make an introduction.

"Hello, Dr. House." Was my soft reply.

"Hi." His response to me was short and curt.

He spoke to Dr. Cuddy perhaps even more sardonically than before, pointing his cane in my direction. "Real lion heart, this one. She's perfect for Wilson."

"House…" she sighed in an annoyed tone. "Be nice to her please."

"She'll have to toughen up eventually." Dr. House countered.

Dr. Cuddy dismissed the comment. "What do you want anyway?"

"To get out of clinic duty. Have Chase do it or something." He complained.

"You've got one more week. It won't kill you." She insisted.

"It just might…" he teased upon leaving.

When I gave Dr. Cuddy a questioning look she said: "You'll have to excuse him. House is a good doctor, just a little strange is all."

I nodded in concession as I didn't want to ruffle any feathers. "I, um, I'm done with the paperwork." I added, holding it aloft.

"Oh, great!" she said, obviously thankful for the change of subject. She took the papers from me and placed them on her desk. "Ready for your pictures and the tour?"

"Absolutely!" I said, perhaps with a little too much vigor.

"I like your enthusiasm." She commented, patting me on the shoulder.

"Thanks." I replied sheepishly, following her down the hall. I meant to ask her about Dr. House's cane, but I thought better of it.

Walking clear to the other end, we reached a little conference room with a camera set up like the one you'd find at the DMV.

I smiled as the bright whitish-blue flash caused spots to form in front of my eyes. The pictures were printed off using a thumb drive hooked up to a portable printer, and the photographer peeled off the larger of the two and put it on a laminate badge, handing it to me. As I attached it to my shirt collar, he prepared my wallet ID and handed that over, too.

Dr. Cuddy whisked me off to the basement to begin the tour. It was there I saw the ER, Radiology, sleep lab, records office, and the morgue. From there we explored the first floor more in depth. I was shown the chapel, cafeteria, pharmacy, clinic, urgent care, and some lecture halls.

She stopped the tour briefly and excused herself when she got to the clinic, going inside. In the meantime, two women, also nurses who appeared close to my age, approached me.

"So, what's your name?" one of them asked, she seemed like the type you'd not want to meet in a dark alley alone.

"I'm Kate, the Oncology nurse."

"_You're_ Betty's replacement?" she asked. I couldn't tell if her surprise was genuine.

"Yeah, today's my first day." I replied, feeling confident.

"No wonder Wilson picked you." The other nurse said, giving me a once over.

"For your information," I said firmly. "Dr. Cuddy chose me; I have every right to be here as much as you." I added, noting her disdain.

"Uh huh." Was the scoffed reply. "You'll see why I said what I did."

I raised my eyebrow at her and shook my head as the nurses went off laughing. I made a beeline for Dr. Cuddy as she emerged back into the hallway.

"Everything all right?" she asked me later in private, as I learned the names of the wings of the hospital.

"Yeah, just met some potential co-workers who gave me quite the welcome." I replied.

"Do I have to speak to them?" she asked, concerned.

"No no, that won't be necessary." I tried to move past the situation.

"Okay, well, if anyone gives you trouble you just let me know." The look of concern was still on her face.

"I will." I said as the tour resumed, wishing I had brought a notebook to jot down all of this new information.

It was about eleven-thirty when we arrived on the fourth floor.

"And this is where you will be spending a lot of your time." Dr. Cuddy said. "Oncology, and Dr. Wilson's office, is at the end of the hall." We got to his door, and she peeked in.

"Oh good, he's here." She said. "I'll let him know you've arrived."

I waited patiently in the hall as she went into his office.

"Hi!" she said cheerfully. "Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah, sure." A velvety smooth voice replied. It sounded like a radio announcer's, but softer. I liked it.

The next thing I heard was the scrape of wood on tile, and Dr. Cuddy came out with a tall man in his early forties, with short brown hair and the most beautiful brown eyes I had ever seen.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Wilson." He said, the rich tone of his voice warming my extremities. "You must be Kate."

"I am." I said, extending my hand to shake his. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last."

"You too, Kate. I look forward to working with you." He smiled, and it took everything in me not to blush tomato red to my ears.

"Same here." I replied very softly.

"I have an idea." Dr. Cuddy said. "Why don't you two grab lunch in the cafeteria, and get better acquainted?"

"Sounds good, I just have to finish these pathology reports and I'll be right down. Once again, nice to meet you, Kate." He said, smiling again.

I responded to him in kind as I went to retrieve my lunch from Dr. Cuddy's office, thoughts of my new boss filling my head.


	3. Chapter 3 - Ab Uno Disce Omnes

_Chapter 3: Ab Uno Disce Omnes. (From One, Learn All.)_

I finished my apple in a quiet corner of the cafeteria, and was about to tuck into my sandwich when I looked at the clock on the wall. _Dr. Wilson should have been down here by now…_I thought.

Assuming the pathology reports took longer than expected, I didn't take any offense. Just as most of the people were filing out, Dr. Wilson spotted me and walked over quickly.

"Kate." He breathed. "I'm so sorry. I finished the reports… and then one of my patients wasn't responding well to the chemo drugs I put her on and…"

"Dr. Wilson." I interrupted politely. "It's okay, really. Is your patient stable now?"

"Yeah." He heaved a sigh, flopping down into the unoccupied seat across from me. "Thank you for asking."

I smiled. "No problem. I'll take a rain check on our lunch meeting, how's that?"

"Works for me." He said, relaxing a little. "So how do you like it here so far?"

"It's great!" I said. "It's always been my dream to help people to the fullest extent and this hospital really seems committed to doing that." I mentally cringed, thinking I sounded like a commercial.

"Yeah, it is. You can thank Dr. Cuddy for that." He said, folding his hands together on the table.

A smile tugged at my lips again. We shared a comfortable silence for a few seconds.

"So, did she set out a plan for you this afternoon?" he asked.

"Um, no, I don't think so. She gave me a full tour and I got all my paperwork done this morning. So I guess the next stage would be to dig right in and help you out on something. If there isn't a case I could see if there are more reports or resident requests." I suggested.

"I'll talk with Dr. Cuddy." He said, noticeably studying me. I was fairly sure I read pity in his eyes.

"I don't mean to be rude…" he added in a hushed tone, leaning in. "But is that all you had to eat? An apple and half a sandwich?"

"Yeah." I said, embarrassed, wrapping up the apple core to be thrown away. "Money's been low for a while."

He frowned. "I'm sorry." He said. "Tell you what…don't worry about lunch tomorrow. I'll buy."

"But Dr. Wilson…" I protested.

"I insist." He said gently.

"Thank you." I said, touched. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dr. House make a quick exit.

"I'm gonna go figure out the rest of your day with Dr. Cuddy, okay? You can sit tight or get yourself more familiar with the department… if you want." Dr. Wilson said, getting up to leave.

I nodded, taking him up on the latter half of his offer. As I was walking around, I overheard Drs. House and Wilson talking.

"You like Kate." Dr. House said flatly.

"No, House, I don't. She just started and…" Dr. Wilson tried to protest.

"Cut the crap." He snapped. "I saw the way you were looking at her. She's young, she's pretty, and she's got issues. There's a surprise!"

Dr. Wilson sighed. "So she's got some money woes, that doesn't mean…"

"Oh come on. She's got classic needy written all over her. Most people help out and go on their merry little way. But you…for you it's a rummage sale." He countered. "Did you look through her file for anything personal before conferring with Cuddy to hire her?"

"What? No!" Dr. Wilson's tone was appalled. "Besides, that's something _you _would do."

"All I'm saying is, don't get involved. Then you'll go from being her boss to being the First National Bank." He warned.

"You think my nurse is a gold digger… great…" Dr. Wilson was exasperated now.

"Women who walk around like innocent, poor things usually are. Just wait, she'll be hitting you up for some booty, and I'm not talking pirates…" He uttered his final blow, going on his way.

I pretended to leaf through a paper that a fellow had written, but inside I was very angry. Who was this Dr. House to presume about my personal life? He knew nothing of me from our brief meeting earlier!

Sometime later, Dr. Wilson caught up with me again.

"Hello." I said, smiling as he came around the corner. I was unsure why, but every time he came around I felt at ease.

"Hi!" he said, just as gaily. "Listen, I talked to Dr. Cuddy…and she said you can help me work on more pathology reports. I just grabbed some more before coming to find you."

"Oh terrific!" I said, following him into his office.

I walked a little too closely and stepped on the back of his shoe. "S-sorry…I didn't mean to…" I said, blushing a violent shade of rose.

"It's fine…" he soothed, sensing my trepidation. "No need to be anxious."

Immediately, I was calm again. He really was good at what he did. No wonder his patients, and Dr. Cuddy, trusted him so thoroughly.

I noticed the reports weren't alphabetized, and began shuffling them into order. I also made it a point not to be practically on his heels in the future.

"I put the reports in alphabetical order." I blurted.

"You mean…they weren't already?" his brow knit into a frown.

"Not that I could see." I confirmed.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, like he remembered something. "I meant to…"

"Meant to what?" I asked

"Fix them before you got here. Looks like I need to talk to pathology again…this isn't the first time the reports weren't filed correctly." He said.

"Oh." I said, thinking it odd that the department could be so disordered at times.

He bit his lip, crossing the floor to his desk, looking through the paperwork. "Excellent work organizing these, Kate. I'm impressed."

My stomach fluttered, mostly from earning the praise. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Maybe pathology would listen better to you instead." He joked.

I missed the humor. "I couldn't…"

He chuckled softly. "I was kidding."

"Right… I…I knew that." I blushed.

"You really don't have to be so nervous." He said, smiling. "I think you have a lot of potential."

A huge smile broke over my features. "Thank you, again. That means a lot to me."

"Anytime." He sat down in the black leather chair at the desk, inclining his head in interest, as if he wanted to know more.

I smiled slightly and busied myself with one of the reports; I really wasn't ready to speak on a personal level just yet. He took the hint and took the next one from the pile, realizing that I was still standing up awkwardly.

"Have a seat." He said, gesturing to the smaller chair nearest me. I nodded and sank down onto the cool leather.

We studied patient information, tissue sample descriptions, and diagnoses with a fine toothed comb for what seemed like hours. He taught me the system he used for making notes, as well as his system for labeling. I picked up both quickly. I analyzed every nod of the head, each time his hand came to briefly rest on my shoulder when I asked a question, and each little smile he gave. My stomach fluttered again at these non-verbal cues that he was once again impressed.

"I was in the top ten of my class at Jersey College." I said giving an answer to the question I thought was forming in his head.

"So I see." He replied. "Dr. Cuddy mentioned at the interview process that you came highly regarded."

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling ready to really open up. "Would you still think so knowing what I went through?" I asked softly.

His pitying look from earlier returned. Noticing the door was slightly ajar, he rose to close it.

As he sat down again, I studied the striped pattern on his tie to try and find my center.

"Kate, will you look at me, please?" he asked.

I raised my eyes to meet his.

"I want you to know now… that anything you tell me is in the strictest of confidence. I also know that it's only day one, but I wanted to make that fact clear." His tone was the most soothing it had been all day.

"Okay, thanks." I replied, my voice a fraction of its normal volume.

"So… tell me about yourself." He tried to keep things casual. Start small before getting to the heavier things.

"I'm twenty-eight, originally from New England. I moved to Plainsboro and started nursing school when I was twenty-one, but long before that I knew it was my career path." I began.

"How early on… did you know?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"I was seven." I said. "I actually swapped out the toys in my pretend doctor's kit for the genuine articles."

A smile lit up his face, and he started to laugh. "Can't imagine your parents were too happy about that."

"Oh, they had no idea! That is until the parents of all the kids in the neighborhood started calling my mom about every scrape, bang, and bump being treated before they got home." I continued. "They weren't mad or anything, just surprised. Then I had to 'fess up." We both laughed.

"Then, in high school, I studied well beyond the scope of what our health classes taught. The thing that bothered me was that those classes tend to gloss over a lot of things – it's too simplified. I'd spend hours in the library after each day was done just soaking in everything I could about the human body. It completely fascinated me. When it came time to do my community service project senior year, I worked as a volunteer at the nurses station at St. Anne's." I said.

"Saint Anne's…?" he questioned.

"A hospital in Fall River, Massachusetts." I explained.

He nodded, hanging on my every word. "One would think you would have jumped into a nursing major right after graduation…why didn't you?" he asked.

I didn't talk about my father's illness much at all. Not even with Christine. I didn't even let it enter my mind that day until that moment in time. Maybe it was the kind aura about Dr. Wilson that allowed me to open up farther than I had in a while.

"My father got sick. Squamous cell carcinoma of the tongue. It was already well into stage two by the time they caught it. I was so freaked out and focused on helping him and my mother that school wasn't even an option at that point. I couldn't justify being away."

He frowned. "Usually the prognosis for tongue cancer is good…"

"I know. But it metastasized to his larynx in a matter of a month, the chemo and radiation wasn't powerful enough." I said. "So they upped the dose…it ravaged his body for six months and was given bi-weekly. Before the last round of that chemo, the cancer had moved on to his brain…"

I fought tears before I spoke again. He got up from his chair and walked to me, kneeling on one knee by my side. He offered me a tissue and rubbed my back.

I dabbed at my eyes. "He passed away a week after that. I helped my mom through the grieving process, and then it hit me. I knew I wanted to help out patients like my father. I wanted to fight for them as hard as I could, as well as their families. Use the knowledge and experience I had to assist them. I applied for nursing school with a concentration in Oncology, and with my mother's help secured a place to live, and here I am. It wasn't without its struggles though. The school kind of left me flapping in the breeze as far as finding a job was concerned, and I had to make ends meet in the meantime. So I worked one minimum wage job to the next, and was unemployed a few times, all the while applying to hospitals in the hope that they'd take me on. Then Dr. Cuddy called… " I paused. "Sorry if this is sounding too much like a sob story…"

"No no… not at all." He assured me. "Your motives for entering into Oncology are pure."

"There needs to be more caring in the medical field, as well." I said. "Too often too many are treated like numbers or statistics. Sometimes hospitals, insurance companies and their ilk forgo humanity."

"I agree…" he said, seeing someone standing outside in the hall. "Excuse me for a moment."

He opened the door, and from where I sat I saw a pair of bright blue eyes. Did Dr. House moonlight as The Shadow or something?

"House…" Dr. Wilson said. "I'm busy right now."

"Swimming through the cesspool of Poor Pitiful Pearl over there?" Dr. House quipped.

I couldn't hold my tongue any longer, turning in the chair to speak. "Excuse me?" I asked him.

"This doesn't concern you." He told me, trying to give me the brush off.

"It most certainly does!" I shot back. "You've got a problem with me? Then be a man and bring it straight to the source, don't go talking behind my back to my boss about it. I don't appreciate that and I don't think he does, either."

"And she's speaking for you now too, good job!" he told Dr. Wilson, who rolled his eyes.

"I've had just about enough of your derision for one day, Dr. House. You know nothing about me or my personal life, which isn't your business to start with. You've pestered us long enough. Please leave." I said, my temper easing off.

Dr. House looked like he really wanted to come up with a zinger, a last word that would put me in my place. He made no move to leave.

"You heard the lady…" Dr. Wilson insisted. There was a moment of contemptuous silence, and Dr. House turned around, limping away.

After Dr. Wilson shut the door and returned to his desk, I immediately opened my mouth to express regret.

"Don't apologize." He said. "What you said was incredible… I haven't seen anybody shut him down like that since Dr. Cuddy!"

"What is his problem, anyway? Is he always like that?" I asked.

"He's just a miser who's dead set on his opinion of the world… which… you can surmise is a negative one. He's also my friend." He said.

_His friend?_ I thought in shock, and then spoke. "How can you stand it? If you don't mind my asking?"

He took a deep breath in and let it out. "I'm all he's got…"


	4. Chapter 4 - A House Divided

_Chapter 4: A "House" Divided_

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. "Doesn't he have family or other friends, even a spouse?"

"Nope." He said. "Everyone that's been in his life… regardless of who it was or their relationship to him… he's successfully pushed away in some capacity."

I sat confused. "Then why hasn't it worked on you?"

"Because I'm the only one that can handle him…" he said on a breath. "I'm…the Benvolio to his Mercutio."

My eyes widened in surprise. "You're saying he does actually have some good traits?"

"Yes. Despite the brusque exterior and general… disregard for any sort of authority or social niceties, he's a brilliant doctor. And though it may be hard to believe… is dedicated to his patients' care." He said.

I pursed my lips and released them. "How so?"

"For example, there was a girl who was admitted here, about a decade ago, who refused treatment because of a prior misdiagnosis. House was…able to empathize with her because of his leg, which was also botched by misdiagnosis." He explained.

"Speaking of, what is wrong with Dr. House's leg?" I asked.

"He suffered an infarction in his right leg playing golf about five years ago. The only symptom from that was leg pain…but it started to increase and became so severe that it made it hard for him to stand, let alone walk." He said. "The doctors who examined him were quick to diagnose the pain as sciatica, and started him on a course of anti-inflammatory drugs and physical therapy. Neither one had any effect. When he brought his condition to a more domestic playing field and asked for a second opinion from Dr. Cuddy, the pain was revealed to be the result of the death of muscle tissue. The damage was so extensive that amputation was the suggested course of action. House…naturally…was hearing none of it. He suggested bypass circulation around the dead muscle. The healing process led to such excruciating pain that he almost went into cardiac arrest, and his former girlfriend, acting as his proxy, decided to go with a suggestion of Dr. Cuddy's which was to remove the muscle entirely. The procedure saved his life, but left him with permanent intense pain extending from the surgery site through his entire leg. He's on a heavy course of Vicodin to manage it."

"Hence the limp and the cane." I said.

"Precisely." He answered.

"How did you meet him?" I asked, feeling a bit sorry for Dr. House now.

"At a conference in New Orleans in 1991, when I was fresh out of med school. He was hired by Dr. Cuddy in 1998 or so… and got me a position here as well a few years later when there was an opening for an oncologist." He revealed.

"You're sort of like the Three Musketeers." I said through a small laugh.

He chuckled too. "That's some analogy…"

I blushed, fearing I misspoke. "Um… how are you the Benvolio to his Mercutio though?"

"He tends to have a very critical worldview, as I told you earlier. He's got quite the temper sometimes, too. I'm sort of like the angel that sits on his shoulder… to remind him that despite his cynicism there is some good left in society and its people. He usually negates that and says I'm too trusting…" He shook his head at this.

"Which is why he thinks I'm a parasitic opportunist." I said voice flat.

"Yeah." He sighed.

"You know I'm not, right?" I asked.

"Of course." He said, eyes not leaving mine.

The way they looked at me wasn't out of pity anymore, but something different. Could he…think I was attractive? Maybe be interested in me? I immediately dismissed those thoughts. It could never work. He was my superior!

I couldn't deny that I thought he was handsome. God, I blushed and acted shy (excluding my standing up to Dr. House) every time he was in the mere vicinity of me. I was always eager to impress and succeed, but now that need was greater. Almost as if I _craved_ his approval.

Regardless of what was to occur personally between Dr. Wilson and myself, if anything, our work came first. I would do my damnedest to keep things professional – especially if it didn't stoke the fire for Dr. House's jibes.

Despite his outright misguided view of me, I did feel badly for the man. No one deserved to suffer so deeply. I also had a feeling there was more to their friendship than Dr. Wilson was letting on, but I figured those details would come to light as our working relationship developed.

"Kate?" Dr. Wilson's voice broke my thoughtful state.

"Hmm?" I responded.

He looked at me curiously, his phone resting on the blotter. "You seemed to be in a trance there…I was asking you if you'd like to trade cell phone numbers. To…establish a point of contact in the days ahead."

"Oh, uh, sure." I said, the tips of my cheeks turning pink. "My…my cell phone's in Dr. Cuddy's office still though."

"That's all right." He said, writing down his number on a small piece of loose-leaf and handing it to me.

"Thanks." I said. "My number's 609-228-1218."

He flipped the phone open to the keyboard, typing it in. A knock came on the door.

"Come in…" Dr. Wilson said.

Dr. Cuddy maneuvered her way inside with a cardboard box almost as big as she was. "I come bearing gifts." She smiled.

"Here, let me help." I rushed over to her, taking the box from her arms and setting it on the floor.

"How nice." Dr. Cuddy commented.

"She's great, isn't she?" Dr. Wilson added.

"Thank you." I said softly, peeking inside the box to see a few pairs of scrubs wrapped in plastic.

"I brought a bunch, as I couldn't remember what size you took." Dr. Cuddy said.

I began to look through the pile, and saw my size, a medium, in a variety of colors. "Do I have to wear a specific one, or…?"

"No, since your nametag distinguishes your position, you can choose whichever color you like." Dr. Cuddy replied.

I smiled, lifting out a light purple set, tucking it under my arm.

"Same time, same station for tomorrow?" I asked to the room at large.

"Yep. 7 A.M., just like today." Dr. Wilson said.

I smiled and saluted. "You got it. I'll be here with bells on."

"Excellent." He replied.

"I'll show you where to clock out." Dr. Cuddy said. "You'll be filling out a paper time card for the first couple of days until the code on your wallet ID is entered into the system. Once it's activated, you can just scan your card each morning and evening to punch in and out."

"Okay." I said.

Looking at the clock on the highest shelf, I saw it read two minutes past four. The day had completely gotten away from me. "Is it time to go?"

Dr. Cuddy smiled. "Yeah, you had a good first day I take it?"

"Definitely." I said in upbeat voice, looking out the window a moment later.

"Nighttime already…" Dr. Wilson said, and then to me: "If it's okay with you, I can walk you to your car, if you want."

"I don't have a car, actually." I nearly mumbled. "I take the bus in."

"I'll walk you to the stop then… and see you off." He offered. "I'd hate for you to walk alone in the dark."

"Sure." I said. "Let me just punch out and grab my things, and I'll meet you back here?"

"It might be easier to just meet us on the first floor." Dr. Cuddy suggested, picking up the box.

"True." I said. "Sounds like a plan. See you in a few minutes, Dr. Wilson."

"See you then." He smiled as Dr. Cuddy and I walked down the hall.

It was nearly four-thirty as I was waiting in the main lobby, all bundled up with my bag slung over one shoulder, mindlessly looking at the plaques of benefactors when the elevator doors opened. Dr. Wilson emerged wearing a slate gray wool trench coat and black leather driving gloves.

"All set?" he asked. That velvet voice could melt the most frozen heart in Siberia.

"Yes." I said, moving to walk beside him. He held the door for me like a perfect gentleman.

"After you..." He said sweetly.

"Why, thank you." I smiled, lightly biting my lower lip. "Are you going home too?"

"Nah, I've got another two hours yet." He said, the chilly air making his breath come out in a white plume. "Then I'll be on call all night."

"Well, you know where to find me should you need me." I giggled, that sentence sounding far better in my head.

"I do indeed…" he replied throatily, laughing too. "I really enjoyed working with you today. You're very intelligent… prepared. And that's just what this department needs."

"Thank you very much." I said, feeling a broken record as ever.

_He can't stop complimenting me! _I thought. Not that they were undue, as I did strive to maintain those qualities. But those nagging thoughts, that sliver of hope that there was something beyond a professional rapport, gnawed at my belly. I shook it away again.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh yeah, fine." I said, looking at him, and then ahead, seeing the bus parked at the terminal.

He walked with me to the sliding door, and I climbed on board upon it opening.

"Have a good night, Kate!" he called over the loud whirr of the engine.

"You too, Dr. Wilson!" I called back as the doors closed.

Once seated, I watched him for as long as I could as the bus rattled toward home, every nerve in my body buzzing and frying. When I could no longer see him in the distance, I reached into my bag for my phone. I had one new voicemail. I dialed my pass code and listened.

"Hey there my nurse rock star!" Christine's voice said happily. "Hope you had an amazing day! So, I was wondering if you'd like to go out to Positano's to celebrate, as I don't have to work the overnight shift for a little while. Let me know as soon as you can. Love you, bye!"

I ended the call to my inbox, waiting to return her call when I got settled in. I walked the two blocks to my place after getting off the bus, dropping my keys and bag on the kitchen counter once I got inside.

Peeling off my wintry outer layer, I fixed myself a cup of tea. While it steeped, I fished my phone back out and called Christine.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey Chris, it's me." I said.

"Oh, hi! Are you game to go out?" she asked.

"I am. It'll be fun. Besides, I had a terrific first day!" I replied.

"Hold that thought! I'll be there in twenty so you can freshen up and whatnot." I could hear the excitement in her voice.

"Awesome. I'll be ready." I affirmed.

We said our goodbyes, and I went to go fetch my tea. I carried it into the bedroom, drinking it and pondering what to wear.

After deciding on a cherry red angora sweater, skinny blue jeans, and black boots, I carried them into the bathroom, carefully setting my tea cup on the nightstand as I passed it.

All while I spruced up and dressed; thoughts of Dr. Wilson's charming demeanor, gorgeous face, and the way he looked at me that afternoon would not leave me be. They chased themselves around in my mind with my conscience's shouts of: "Forget it! It can't happen!"

Why was I so torn up about this? It was perfectly okay to have a crush on your boss, right?

Granted, my past relationships had been brief. A few dates, no sex, no fuss, no muss, no attachment. Most of the guys I went with didn't have much substance or passion. They either had no job, or had one that was four hours here, six hours there. They were in a boat similar to mine, leaving no room to better each other or to grow, which is why none of them were ever serious. Also, each one was around my age or a pinch younger.

Dr. Wilson was no "guy". He was, by all intents and purposes, a gentleman. Older, wiser, someone well respected, with a solid career. Maybe even husband material…

"Stop it, Kathryn Anne!" I muttered as I touched up my eyeliner. Once I was satisfied with the evenness of my cat eyes, I lightly brushed the ends of my hair back into shape.

I'd ask Christine what to do about my conundrum. She was always there for me with good advice. My college roommate, constant companion to the career center and late night phone conversations, which usually ended in her showing up at my door in cow print pajamas, a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Therapy and two spoons in tow.

With ten minutes left to spare, I put my phone on to charge, laid out my scrubs and badge on the foot of my bed for the next morning.

To the perky toot of Christine's car horn, I swung my coat on and grabbed a small purse that I stuffed my wallet and keys into, dashing out to revel in my achievement.

"Soooo tell me all about it!" she urged as I hopped into the passenger seat.

"My day started off great!" I said. "I had pretty much everything I needed, I was on time. Dr. Cuddy, the Dean of Medicine, you know? She's a darling woman and so helpful. I got all my forms filled out, and that's when I met Dr. House."

"Who's that?" Christine asked.

"The Head of Diagnostic Medicine." I answered. "A miserly guy of about fifty; makes Dr. Stern's jabs look like child's play."

She let out a low whistle at this. "But you're Oncology, right?"

"Yeah, he just barged into Dr. Cuddy's office unannounced to try and weasel his way out of clinic duty. Called me a 'cast off from The Andrews Sisters' and a 'lion heart', and said I was perfect for Dr. Wilson." I said.

"Rude!" she exclaimed. "The hell is his problem?"

"I'll get to that later." I prefaced. "Dr. Cuddy tried to apologize for him, but honestly I really wasn't too insulted or bothered, just thought it odd. Anyway, I got my ID pictures taken, went on a full tour of the hospital, and learned the ins and outs, names of the wings. The usual first day drill. The last stop was the fourth floor, where Oncology is. And that's when I met him."

"Who?" she questioned.

"Dr. Wilson, of course!" I giggled. "His first name is James; I read it on his office door. And when Dr. Cuddy ever brought him out to meet me…" My tone sounded somewhat dreamy.

"Oh no…babe alert?" her eyes went wide as she kept them on the road. A smile tugged at her lips.

"Off the scale." I confirmed.

"Shut up! No way!" she exclaimed.

"Absolutely! Maybe I can pull up the Princeton-Plainsboro website on your phone so I can show you." I suggested.

"Please do! I have to see him!" she egged. "So what happened with Dr. Gorgeous?"

I laughed at the pet name she gave him. "He's really nice, and so understanding! It was close to lunch time when we met, and Dr. Cuddy suggested he and I go to the cafeteria together to get better acquainted. So I grabbed my little brown bag and I waited for him, and he didn't show up until nearly thirty minutes later, if I had to guess."

"Did something bad happen?" There was worry in her voice.

"Kind of. He was working on some pathology reports when he got buzzed to a patient's room. The poor thing wasn't responding well to the course of chemo he had given her. But he got it put to rights and as far as we know she's stable." I assured her.

"Oh good." She said.

"Yeah, so anyway, he found me in the cafeteria, apologizing profusely for his lateness. I of course forgave him, saying that we'd meet for lunch another time, and asked how the patient was doing. After that, he asked me how I liked things so far, and I sounded pathetically cheesy. I said something like it was great and how committed the hospital was to true patient care. Which it is, but in front of him I didn't want to sound so lame." I sighed as we pulled into the restaurant parking lot.

She pulled the keys out of the ignition. "You really like him, don't you?"

I shrugged. "Would I be a horrible person if I said yes?"


	5. Chapter 5 - Revelations and Doubts

_Chapter 5: Revelations and Doubts_

"No!" she said in a big laugh as she opened the door. It being a Monday night, the dining room was only about a quarter of the way full. We were seated at a small booth by one of the picture windows.

"So…what shall our poison be to kick off the festivities?" Christine asked.

"Maybe their smallest pitcher of sangria. Seven o'clock does come early, you know." I replied. "Can't show up to work not firing on all cylinders."

"Always so pragmatic." She teased.

I snorted. "A nurse with a wine hangover, really?"

"Oh god!" she squealed.

We settled down as we placed our drink order and opened menus. I secretly tried not to panic at seeing some of the entrée prices. Most of the larger ones went for twenty to twenty-four dollars a plate.

"Hmmm…" Christine mused. "Split the penne vodka with me? It's huge."

"Yeah, let's do that." I agreed. "Pink vodka sauce is my favorite."

The waitress came back over a few minutes later with the pitcher and two wine glasses, telling us as we ordered there'd be an extra dollar charge for splitting the dish.

"That's fine." Christine told her, smiling.

"But…" I said lowly.

"Never you mind. This is my treat to you." Christine insisted.

I quietly thanked her after the waitress retreated to the kitchen.

"Okay, finish your story, it was just getting good!" she said excitedly, leaning forward in her seat.

"He actually agreed with what I said about the hospital, and that Dr. Cuddy was the reason for the positive change in care. Then, he saw what I had for lunch, which was half a sandwich and an apple. Chris, he was so worried about it! So worried that he offered to buy lunch tomorrow." I said.

Her face softened. "Aww! How sweet!"

I nodded, turning a bit red at the memory.

"Before he left, he said he had to talk with her to figure out what my afternoon was going to be like, as there was no plan in place. Though he suggested it, I took it upon myself to explore the Oncology wing more closely, and that's when I heard him and Dr. House talking about me." I revealed. "This House character is basically convinced I'm a gold digger."

Now, Christine's face looked bewildered. "How does he figure that?"

"I guess he overheard my telling Dr. Wilson that money has been few and far between lately, and he made the assumption." I shrugged.

"Again, rude!" she snapped. "Does he have fun making incorrect theories about everyone he meets?"

"I'm not really certain." I said. "I do know this much, Dr. Wilson's the only friend he's got."

"With an attitude like that I can't say I'm surprised." She added.

I tilted my head in acknowledgment. "Dr. Wilson said he's pretty miserable, and that he serves as a reminder to Dr. House that not all of society is bad or has some ulterior motive. He also later explained that Dr. House has a really nasty leg injury from playing golf a few years back. It resulted in the death of muscle tissue in his right leg. Doctors initially misdiagnosed it as sciatica. Amputation looked like the only way out. He didn't want to go down that route and suggested bypassing the dead muscle instead, which resulted in pain so great that it nearly sent him into cardiac arrest."

"Jesus!" she hissed.

"I know. Dr. Cuddy was actually the one to suggest removal of the muscle altogether." I said.

"Wait…so why didn't he just go to Princeton-Plainsboro in the first place and avoid the misdiagnosis?" she asked.

"Again, I'm not sure." I said. "Though that surgery saved his life, he was left with permanent pain all through his right leg that's so bad he needs Vicodin to keep it under control. He limps and walks with a cane."

"Poor guy." She said softly.

"I started feeling badly for him too. I doubt he'd be too receptive to the sympathy." I said.

She hummed in agreement. "So, how did you handle the whole gold digger thing?"

I smiled confidently. "I confronted Dr. House directly when he came barging in on us as we were working."

"Damn!" she crowed as our food was served. "You didn't get in trouble?"

"Nope. Dr. Wilson actually praised me for it. Can you believe that?" I asked.

"That's one strange friendship." She said, spearing a few noodles on her fork.

I sipped my sangria. "Tell me about it. I think there's more to it than he let on. I didn't want to pry, though."

"Speaking of which, how much does he know about you, exactly?" she asked.

"Who? Dr. Wilson or House?" I asked, wiping a bit of errant sauce off of my mouth.

"Either or." She shrugged.

"Dr. House only knows what he overheard, which wasn't a whole lot but enough to get his antennae buzzing. Dr. Wilson…I told him everything. I felt like I could really open up to him and trust him. Almost like I can with you." There was slight surprise in my voice.

"But I thought you said you were going to keep your personal life out of things?" She asked, reminding me of our conversation the week before.

"I was. But after the whole act of chivalry in the cafeteria, I figured my back-story merited some sort of explanation." I said.

"Oh boy. I just hope word doesn't go around too much, for your sake." She warned.

"I don't think it will. Dr. Wilson promised to keep everything I told him in confidence." I replied.

"He better have meant it." She said, feeling protective.

I frowned. "Why wouldn't he?"

"True… he is your boss after all." She admitted.

I nodded, a smile creeping over my face a second later. "He continued the chivalry after I finished work. He walked me to the bus stop."

"Get out!" she cried.

My smile grew wider. "I'm serious!"

"That goes above and beyond… you don't think he likes you too?" she asked, refilling her glass.

"That's what I wanted to ask you. Do you think that's so, and if it is, what the hell do I do?" I swept a chunk of my bangs out of my eyes.

"No matter what, I'd tread carefully." She advised. "And if something does spark between you two, keep it on the Q.T. at work. Don't give anyone a chance to feed the rumor mill. What worries me is that you feel like he's not told you everything about his friendship with that House guy. That leads me to think, what other skeletons could be in his closet, you know?"

"I didn't think of it like that." I admitted.

"Well, you should." She said. "And if it's something that is enough of a concern for you then I wouldn't pursue it. Keep the relationship strictly professional. I personally think it was a mistake to open up so much on the first day, but, you live and learn."

I looked down, folding the corner of my napkin.

"Hey, don't feel bad." She soothed. "I'm only looking out for you. You've struggled so long and come so far. I want you to stay on the straight and narrow, you know?"

"Yeah, I hear what you're saying." I sighed.

Sensing a low mood, she changed subjects. "I'm still interested in seeing what he looks like."

"Oh, right! Let me see your phone." I said, holding out my hand.

She placed her hot pink iPhone in my palm. I signed on to the Internet and typed in the Princeton-Plainsboro web address, scrolling to Mathey Oncology, and finding his name first on the drop down list.

"It's loading…" I said. "And… here he is." I turned the screen so she could see.

"Wow, he really is gorgeous!" she exclaimed. "Look at those eyes and that smile…can I come work with you?"

"Christine!" I laughed.

"I'm just messing with ya." She said. "But heed my earlier advice, all right?"

"I promise I will." I said, to which she patted my hand.

We both looked down at the plate of pasta. Even though we had scooped sizable portions out, there was still at least two meals' worth left over.

"Let's have it boxed and you can get two more dinners out of it." She suggested, calling the waitress over before I could say anything.

I loved the girl to death, but part of me wondered if she knew I really was capable of taking care of myself to some degree.

Yawning several times on the drive home, I turned to look at the clock on the dashboard. I laughed quietly, seeing it was only eight-fifteen.

"Gonna call it an early night?" Christine asked.

"Yeah, I think so." I said. "Make some more tea and listen to music before I turn in."

"Good idea." She said, parallel parking on the street in front of my building.

We said goodbye with a hug and kiss on the cheek. She didn't leave until she saw I was safely inside.

Pulling on my nightgown and tying a nylon scarf around my hair, I moved my work things to my dresser for easy access, putting Dr. Wilson's number into my phone's contact list.

I brewed a cup of Sleepytime tea, carrying it back to the bedroom. After turning down the sheets, I put my Doors album on the record player and tucked myself in, letting the low hum of the guitar in "Riders On The Storm" pulse through my veins along with the chamomile, slowly drifting off to sleep.

A few hours later, I was jarred awake by my phone ringing.


	6. Chapter 6 - Trial By Fire

_Chapter 6: Trial By Fire_

I got my foot stuck in the top sheet trying to reach my phone. Once I freed myself and it was in my hands, I looked at the name flashing across the screen: _Dr. Wilson. _I answered right away, still groggy. "Hello?"

He spoke very quickly, around raised voices and the whirring of machines. "Hi, Kate. I'm sorry to bother you but I need your help...I need you to come in. My patient from earlier… her name is Marie…the Cytoxan I gave her, she's having an allergic reaction, and the overnight nurse called out… Dr. Cuddy's on her way to get you."

"I'm getting ready now!" I said, holding the phone with my ear. I ran to the bathroom and freshened up faster than I ever had in my life, yanking on a white turtleneck, my scrubs, shoes, and badge. Who's helping you with Marie?" I asked, huffing out a breath.

"Dr. Cameron from House's team and a few other fellows are pinch hitting in the interim. I'll see you soon." He hung up without saying goodbye.

I tossed my hair up and put the scarf over it, and left my face bare.

As I was dashing out of the entryway, I saw Dr. Cuddy pull up. I wasted no time getting in her car.

"Thank you for being ready on such short notice." She told me as we sped down the highway.

"Anytime. I just hope Marie is going to be all right. Do you know what happened?" I asked.

"All I know is that around two this morning she started yelling in pain and vomiting blood." She said.

"From Cytoxan? That's completely bizarre." I said. "Has anything else been administered to her or has she shown any other out of the ordinary symptoms?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure. The next thing I knew Wilson was yelling for Michelle, our night nurse, and she wasn't there. He called you and that's when I discovered she called out."

I sighed heavily, trying to figure out a game plan as we arrived at the hospital. Dr. Cuddy got beeped to another case, and skittered down the hall in the direction opposite me.

When I got up to the fourth floor patient rooms, the scene in Marie's room was one of chaos. She was wailing on the bed, in horrible pain, the front of her hospital gown stained red. Dr. Wilson was trying to keep her calm and stop the vomiting, the other fellows in the room were yelling at each other, running around to find a solution, not getting a whole lot accomplished.

"All right, settle down!" I called over the noise, yanking gloves on. "All this racket isn't doing a bit of good. You're probably sending her blood pressure through the roof which isn't helping her case, here."

Everyone stopped and looked at me, including Dr. Wilson. I ran over to Marie's side.

"Don't worry Marie; we'll get you out of this…"

"Who… are you?" she was able to ask before the next wave of retching.

"I'm Kate. I work with Dr. Wilson, I'm gonna try to help you." I said, attempting to alleviate her suffering.

"Ditch the Cytoxan and give me a bag of 5-FU now!" I shouted.

"How do you know that will work?" one of the fellows, named Chase, shouted back in a thick Australian accent.

"The side effects aren't as devastating…" I started to explain, stopping myself from speaking of it further. "Damn it just trust me!" I yelled back, hooking up the bag once it was handed to me.

"You're gonna be all right, just stay as strong as you can for me, okay?" I told Marie.

She nodded and vomited once more before it slowed and eventually stopped. I instructed everyone to wait before trying to move her or do anything else. Everyone looked on with bated breath. The look on Dr. Wilson's face was one of awe when we caught glances momentarily.

"Let's move her, slowly, to Radiology to make sure that the cancer hasn't spread anywhere else in her body, like her stomach. Then we'll continue to treat appropriately from there." I said, looking to Dr. Wilson for the signal to proceed, which he gave.

The fellows did as I asked, and ran the screening. Dr. Wilson and I were looking at the computer in the viewing room above.

"Kate." Dr. Wilson panted, looking every bit as tired and messy as me. "That was…"

"Don't congratulate me just yet." I interrupted, looking intently at the screen.

He quieted down, looking where I was. The cancer was still concentrated in the breast area.

"It was the Cytoxan…" he muttered, shaking his head. I could tell he felt guilty.

"It wasn't your fault." I said. "You didn't know she'd have that reaction. You did what you thought was right."

"At risk of her life…" he said sadly.

"But we worked together and saved her, for the time being. The cancer hasn't metastasized anywhere else. Let's take stock of the positives and move forward." I said, smiling at him.

He smiled too. "You're right."

As we threw away our gloves and washed hands, Dr. Wilson and I determined that a course of 5-FU would continue to be the next step. As I had said earlier its side effects were fewer and the likelihood that she'd vomit in the same way decreased exponentially.

Once the screening was over, Marie was wheeled back to her room. I changed into new scrubs, putting the bloodied ones in a red biohazard bag for cleaning. I stopped by the office, and told Dr. Wilson I'd help get her settled.

I knocked softly on the door frame before entering. She lifted her head and smiled, and I walked in.

"Hi. Marie." I said gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now that my insides aren't coming up." She joked. "I could stand to get into a fresh gown though."

"Absolutely." I said. "Would you like me to help you wash up?"

"Please." She confirmed, quietly.

I drew the curtain closed around the room, putting a new pair of gloves on. I helped her up slowly, stripping her out of the soiled gown and placed it in a similar bag to the one I put my scrubs in, disposing of it.

I washed hands and changed gloves again, getting a clean gown and warm sponge bath ready. I carefully went over her shoulders, back, sternum, underneath the arms, and down her entire body.

"You're very pretty, you know." She said.

I blushed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. And, truthfully, your strength and determination reminds me of how I was at about your age. I was a nurse myself, at Pearl Harbor." She said as I dried and dressed her.

"That's amazing." I said, stunned, sitting on the foot of the bed now.

She nodded, cracking the tiniest of smiles, and told me her story.

"Commander Fuchida launched two waves of attack…" she began. "Bombs and aerial fire raged for an hour and half. That hour and a half ticked by like years. Those poor boys…the screaming…" she trailed off. I patted her hand before she was able to speak again.

"As history tells, the _USS Arizona_ was a total loss, the _Oklahoma _capsized. What remained of the crews of the _USS Aylwin, California_, _Enterprise_, _Nevada_, _Pennsylvania_, _Shaw_, _Tennessee_, _West Virginia_, and so forth were brought into the base hospital by the ambulance load amid a hail of aerial fire from Japanese Aichi and Akagi. There were so many wounded and dead, that the pens ordinarily used to indicate levels of triage dried up in a matter of minutes. We were forced to use lipstick instead. We had… we had to assure several that they weren't going to die, even though the reality was that it was already too late." She took a breath in, tears burned at my eyes, but I willed them not to fall.

"Our supplies were few, but we had to do everything we could to rescue those boys. When our head nurse was taken out by shrapnel, I took matters into my own hands and devised an assembly line on two floors of the hospital for those who needed wound care – stitches, burns, another for blood transfusions, a third for amputation, a fourth for surgery, and a fifth to store the dead, as the morgue had been compromised. In the harbor, there were balls of fire and plumes of thick black smoke that stretched skyward for stories…shrapnel and debris littered the ground like jagged, metallic snow. The air reeked of gasoline and ash. The only music to be heard was the scream of bombs and roar of engines and propellers, cries of anger and agony in Japanese and English. We lost two-thousand four hundred souls that day; some eleven hundred more were wounded. The next day…President Roosevelt announced we were at war.

Their bravery to this day far overshadows my own, even though at the present time I stand poised to fight a war of a different sort…" Her eyes drifted to my badge, then back to gazing into mine.

"Always remember to keep fighting, Kate." She said, voice at a fraction of the volume it had earlier maintained. "No matter how impossible it may seem, no matter how many voices scream into the abyss telling you that you cannot— prove them all wrong, lead by example. Not for yourself, but for the greater good. You got that, honey?" she asked, reaching for my hand and giving it a light squeeze.

"I do, Marie." I said, my voice soft too. "Thank you for sharing your bravery with me. You are truly an incredible woman." I rose to clear away the water, sponge, and plastic tub.

"Thank you." She said, smiling again.

"Dr. Wilson will be in to check on you shortly." I said.

"Oooh." She said with a chortle. "He's a dish, isn't he? Damn good doctor, too."

I nodded, smiling. "You rest now, okay? See you later."

She gave a small wave as I turned down the hallway. That's when I really started to feel fatigued, with the previous rush of adrenaline gone.

The door to the office was open. As I walked in, I saw that Dr. Wilson had cleaned up completely and was dressed in a gray suit, white shirt and red tie. Before I could sit down, he rushed over and hugged me, which caught me off guard for a second. I eventually settled into the embrace, wrapping my arms lightly around his back. I didn't think he was this forward with colleagues. I supposed the exhaustion had gotten the better of him, too.

"You were brilliant!" he said when we let go. "I've never seen someone take charge like that. You…you saved her life."

"_We_ saved her life." I corrected.

"Still…you were so brave." He added.

"Not even close." I said. "I can only hope to be half the woman that Marie is."

When his brow knit in curiosity, I regaled him with everything that Marie had told about her experience in Pearl Harbor, and the advice she imparted to me.

"I have a new hero." I said at the conclusion.

"I guess so!" Dr. Wilson said, smiling.

I settled back on the reclining chair near the window. It was then I realized it was not quite five in the morning.

What we talked about in the next few moments escaped my memory as I'm pretty sure I fell asleep.

When I woke up to start my day shift, Dr. Wilson was gone, his suit jacket draped over me like a blanket.


	7. Chapter 7 - Something Greater

_Chapter 7: Something Greater_

As I slowly blossomed into full consciousness, my fingers glided over the worsted wool. The scent of his cologne filled my nose. It was rather masculine and sophisticated…even woodsy…Polo or Givenchy perhaps? It sure was better than what my male contemporaries wore – which was either an abundance of Axe or a dreadful knockoff of Drakkar Noir.

That heavenly earthy tang, combined with the jacket being placed on me only aided and abetted the dream I had of him.

In it, under undisclosed circumstances, we were in a beautiful condo with large, bright windows and an open floor plan, cuddled on a micro suede sectional. I presumed the condo was his, as someone in his occupational standing was set to earn a generous salary, though I was in no position to ask such things in real life. My head was on his chest, listening intently to the steady thumping of his heart. My hands grazed his sternum and pectoral muscles as I pulled him closer. My lips traced the constellations of freckles on his neck and jaw, the softness of his skin interrupted only by the barely there emergence of five o'clock shadow. The scent that my senses had the pleasure to experience in the waking world appeared here too. I took comfort in it. Feeling the warmth of his body as it sheltered mine sent my nerves adrift in a sea of complete adoration. My eyes fluttered shut as his singing voice, also rich in smooth timbre, intoned the words of my most favorite melody:

"There were bells on a hill  
But I never heard them ringing  
No, I never heard them at all  
Till there was you

There were birds in the sky  
But I never saw them winging  
No, I never saw them at all  
Till there was you

Then there was music and wonderful roses  
They tell me in sweet fragrant meadows  
Of dawn and dew

There was love all around  
But I never heard it singing  
No, I never heard it at all  
Till there was you

Then there was music and wonderful roses  
They tell me in sweet fragrant meadows  
Of dawn and dew

There was love all around  
But I never heard it singing  
No, I never heard it at all  
Till there was you  
Till there was you…"

Noticing I couldn't tarry much longer, else I risked tardiness, I got up, laying the jacket neatly on his desk chair. Even though I was somewhat frightened of the prospect, moreover what it meant for us in our work-a-day lives, one thing was crystal clear: I had feelings for James Wilson with the strength of a gathering storm.

I walked down the hall to the elevator, taking it to Dr. Cuddy's office so I could fill out my time card. When I got there, she too congratulated me for the feat of helping Marie.

"By the way, this was left for you." She added with a slight smile, indicating an eco-friendly travel cup, not hospital issue, on the end table with a note beside it.

I raised my eyebrow as I went to investigate. The note read:

_Kate, _

_Congratulations again on your triumph earlier this morning. I am awed by your humility and compassion, and believe you will continue to excel in the future. _

_I hope you like hot chocolate; this is the best of the best. _

_See you at lunch!_

_- Dr. Wilson_

"How nice." I murmured, trying to hide the blush I could feel creeping on my face. "I will have to thank him in person later."

"He's in board meetings all morning." She informed me. "So you'll be learning how to use the patient records and scheduling interface in the nurses' station."

"Oh, okay. I'm on it." I said, handing her my time card before leaving.

I took a sip of the hot chocolate as I walked. He was right – it really was the best! It tasted like melted chocolate bars – the expensive kind they sell at Macy's at Christmas.

I sat at the desk and drank it slowly as I turned on the computer. I mastered the programming of the interface quickly. It reminded me of the one used at Saint Anne's, except larger and more detailed. When I looked to my left, I saw a stack of data needing to be entered, and took the initiative to whittle away at it, hearing a couple of the other nurses wonder aloud about how I typed so quickly and accurately using only two fingers – one on each hand. Just as I was getting a little bored, I happened to see a door open a few feet away. Dr. Wilson walked out, apparently on a recess from one of the meetings. As he walked past the nurses' station, he gave a little smile and wave. Some of the girls working alongside me, and mature women too, giggled as though on the playground, batting their eyelashes. I flashed a quick closed mouth smile in his direction, ignoring any further surrounding distraction.

Then the annoying over-thinking process started again. Did he always wave at the nurses? Was that intended for my eyes only? What did it mean?

And when he walked past and I saw the others practically make fools of themselves, why did my stomach feel like I had swallowed a milkshake made of concrete? I later recognized that feeling as jealousy…

I told myself to get a grip and resumed typing. As I finished emptying the inbox, I sat up to stretch, realizing it was lunch time.

The smile that I subdued earlier finally shone through in full force as I traveled down to the cafeteria. Dr. Wilson was already in line, and waved me over as soon as he saw me. Tingles shot through my body as I grabbed a tray and a plate, joining him.

"Hello." He said, smiling, perhaps a little shyly. "You're chipper today."

"What can I say?" I replied. "All things considered it's been a great day so far. I really enjoyed the hot chocolate, by the way. That was very thoughtful of you."

"You're welcome." He said, picking up a banana, and then looking me directly in the eyes. "Also, I checked on Marie. She's doing better than ever before, her vitals are good…and her cell counts are improving."

"That's wonderful!" I said, amazed, smiling brilliantly.

"It really is… I'm so relieved." He admitted. "She won't stop talking about you, either. 'How's my mini me?' She asked." He added, laughing.

"Her mini me?" I repeated, laughing too. "She's too much. It's patients like her that really make our jobs worthwhile, you know?"

"Yeah." He said, pleasantly taken aback as we arrived to the hot foods. "Have whatever you wish."

"You're sure?" I asked dumbly.

"Of course." He said, soothingly.

"Well, what's good?" I asked.

He looked around for a minute, suddenly getting quite excited. "They have chicken molé today!"

"I'm guessing you like it, as you got as happy as a kid on pizza day in elementary school." I giggled, swearing to whatever I saw a little pink color his cheeks at my words.

"It's really delicious… and rare when they have it." He explained, spooning some onto his plate.

"You've convinced me." I grinned.

I went to reach for the serving spoon but he beat me to it. "Here… let me." He said.

"Thank you." I said, completely flattered.

"Politeness isn't passé, you know." He quipped, smirking.

"I'm glad." I replied, winking as he began to fill my plate.

"Is that enough… or do you want a little more?" he asked.

I inspected the amount, which was rather large. "That should do it, I think."

"Okay." He said softly, and I followed him to the checkout.

The cashier looked from Dr. Wilson to me, then back to Dr. Wilson. "Together or separate?"

"Together, please." He said, fishing out his wallet and paying.

My face went completely red, and I hoped no one was privy to it.

We chose a spot in the corner that was a bit removed from everyone else, as it was becoming difficult to hear anywhere else in the room.

Before we could really get to talking, Dr. House appeared at our table.

We both regarded him with a 'fancy meeting you here' sort of expression, but it wasn't borne out of surprise.

"Sorry for interrupting your little rendezvous…" he began, his tone indicating that he wasn't sorry at all. "But I heard about you saving that patient this morning, and I just want to say that I'm…impressed." He said, looking straight at me.

"Oh, did we learn a new word on Sesame Street this morning?" I needled, unsure how to take the compliment, if it was one.

Dr. Wilson put his hand up to me, gently. "Wait a minute…I think he's…serious."

I softened. "Oh, well in that case, thank you, Dr. House."

"You're welcome." He said, smiling quickly and limping away.

"Did we enter the Twilight Zone or…?" I asked Dr. Wilson once Dr. House was well out of ear shot.

"No, but compliments from him are seldom…so…take them when you can, you know?" he replied.

I nodded, the mood suddenly feeling very peculiar.

"I have a question." He said, and I dearly hoped it was something to lift the tension.

"Shoot." I said.

"Your last name, Medeiros…" he began. "It's not one I've heard before."

"It's Portuguese." I answered. "I'm half Azorean."

When I was met with an expression of uncertainty, I explained myself further. "Azorean means, from a chain of islands off the west coast of mainland Portugal called The Azores. They are autonomous, and there's nine in all: São Miguel, or Saint Michael, Pico, Terceira, São Jorge, or Saint George, Faial, Flores, Santa Maria, Graciosa, and Corvo. My family is from the island of Saint Michael."

"Wow, that's interesting." He said, wiping some of the molé sauce off his mouth. "Have you ever been there?"

"I wish…" I sighed. "My grandparents went in 2005. They said it was gorgeous."

"I bet it is." He replied.

I nibbled my food. "Yeah. From what I've been told the climate is hot and humid, but the vegetation is so lush and exotic, and on Saint Michael in particular, there's natural hot springs."

He nodded in fascination, smiling. "So, you've told me about one half of your heritage…what makes the other half?"

My stomach quivered at this newly vested interest he was showing. "The other half is Welsh and Irish."

"That's… an unusual combination." He said. "No offense."

I pursed my lips, and then let them go. "None taken. But enough about me, what about you?"

"My…ethnic background you mean?" he clarified

"Yes." I confirmed, scooting closer to him a tiny bit.

"I'm English and German." He said. "But I don't have any exciting stories like yours…I'm also Jewish."

"Oh wow. So do you go to temple and that?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I …don't really practice, much to the chagrin of my parents. I visit them for Passover and Hanukkah, and that's about it. What about you?"

"I was raised Catholic, but I don't really practice either." I said.

He pointed to my medal, turning his head to one side.

I touched it absentmindedly with my finger, momentarily forgetting I still had it on from the day before. "It was a gift from my mom when I started nursing school. It was really sweet of her."

"Who is it of?" he asked.

"Saint Agatha. Patron saint of nursing. Fitting, huh?" I smiled.

"Yes…very much so." He said.

"What brought you to Oncology?" I asked.

"Like you, a need early on to help others, bring a human approach to the care of the sick." He said. "I mean, yes… there was familial pressure to make something of myself… but it wasn't like I was forced into medicine."

I nodded, keen for him to continue. I was pretty sure I was looking at him through my eyelashes as well. He kept such deep eye contact with me; I thought they would plumb the depths of my soul.

"And how I decided to come here was that in addition to having the networking connection through House, my brother Danny… he has schizophrenia…and disappeared somewhere around the Princeton area when I was still in medical school." He paused, sighing. "I thought…getting a job here would afford me an opportunity to look for him through local homeless shelters."

My face fell. "Have you found him?"

He shook his head again. "No."

"I'm sorry." I said. "Is there anything I can do?"

He smiled weakly. "Again…no. I've given up the search for now."

I squeaked out an "Oh," fearing I had said too much.

"You're very sweet to be so concerned, though." He added, picking up my hand and giving it a squeeze.

I blushed vibrantly red like before. Once he realized what he had done, he gave a small clear of his throat and placed my hand delicately back on the table.

"U-um, we should see if there are any fellow requests or anything." I said a moment later, bringing the focus back to work.

"Yeah…that'd be good." He agreed, helping me clear the table.

Our work was cut out for us for the rest of the day. The fellow and resident request box was full to bursting, and there were twelve new pathology reports to annotate and file.

Dr. Wilson kept his door closed to minimize disturbances, and we sat down at the swath of paperwork.

"Where to begin…" I said, sitting down beside him.

"Indeed." He said, removing his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, sitting too.

At around three o'clock, I was positive the sentences I was reading were running together. I looked up and blinked blearily.

Dr. Wilson looked up as well. "You need a break too, huh?"

"Yeah." I admitted, sheepishly. "Everything I'm looking at right now is total gibberish."

"That's understandable." He soothed. "You've had a very long second day. You can go home early… if you feel like. I'm sure it'd be fine with Dr. Cuddy…"

"No, I'll be all right. It's just a little while longer." I insisted.

"You're sure?" he asked, holding my gaze for a beat too long.

"Yeah." I smiled. "But that break sounds like a great idea."

He organized the papers on his desk so we'd remember our stopping point, and leaned back in his chair, smiling.

This smile was different in that it was slower, more playful. I now knew damn well he had been flirting with me on and off all day. I had been flirting too, to be fair. All his little gestures made sense. Not that they were disingenuous, but I doubted he bought any of the other nurses hot chocolate, or lunch, or talked with them as in depth as he talked with me. I still would approach the situation with caution, but boy was I antsy to know where it would lead.

I stretched, still seated, shaking my head around.

"Better?" he asked, chuckling.

"A little." I said.

He turned in his chair to face me. "Kate?"

"Yes?" I replied, the butterfly sensation I felt going all the way to my throat.

His eyes met mine again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Isn't that what you've been doing all day?" I asked.

He cleared his throat a bit. "Well, yes, but…I was wondering…if you'd like to have dinner with me tonight?"

My eyes flew wide open. I wanted to pinch myself. I had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real life…

He waited for a response, and through the shyness, a tiny hint of eagerness too played on his features.

"Yes of course, I'd love to!" I blurted, blushing again. "Was that too strong?"

He laughed again, smiling wider than before. Good god, he was adorable when he laughed.

"No, not at all." He said. "Where would you like to go?"

I was too nervous to say, still soaking it in that my boss had asked me out on a date.

My tone was slightly dazed. "Uh…um… you pick."

"Hmm…there's a French place here in Princeton that I think you would like …" he said. "It's called Lahiere's."

"That sounds lovely." I said.

"It is a bit dressy though. Is…that okay?" he asked.

"That's fine!" I said, the red in my face now toned a cool pink.

"Great." He said, grinning now. "Shall I…pick you up for seven?"

"Seven works." I said.

We shared a few moments of silence when…

"I don't have your address." He said clumsily. "I could always look it up in your file…"

"Oh don't bother with that." I said, writing it down.

He thanked me, adding. "You can call me James… from now on. When it's just us…"

I bit my lip. "Okay, James…" I said, trying it out.

He smiled for the umpteenth time that afternoon, and somewhere inside I knew he liked the way his name sounded when I spoke it. I did too.


	8. Chapter 8 - Taking Flight

_Chapter 8: Taking Flight_

"He _WHAT_?" Christine practically screamed into the receiver when I told her.

I held the phone away from my ear for a minute, anticipating another outburst, and then spoke.

"He asked me out this afternoon. To Lahiere's." I repeated. "He was really nice about it…"

"Jeez!" she yelped. "You know dinners there go for like, fifty bucks a plate, right?"

"I _know_…he's treating me like royalty and I have no idea why." I said, bouncing from one foot to the other out of edginess.

"He either really, really likes you, which I can't fault him for because you're a wonderful girl…or he wants only one thing…" Christine mused.

I swallowed thickly at the idea of anything further than a kiss goodnight. "Chris… you know I haven't… I'm not…" I blathered.

"Exactly. And if he pressures you into it…" her tone got a little threatening.

"He won't, Chris. He's not like that." I said.

"How do you know? He asked you out after only knowing you for two days!" she said.

"Okay so he moved fast in that regard." I conceded. "Doesn't mean he's gonna get handsy…"

"You're really considering this. After knowing the man for such a short time…" she said, almost scolding me.

"Yes!" I said, a little exasperated. "Why are you so intent on believing he has something to hide?"

"I just get a weird feeling about him, Kate. I mean, on the outside he looks like he has it all together, all handsome and charming, but what's behind all that?" she said.

"I do wish you'd stop filling my head with doubts." I countered.

She sighed. "I'm not, honey. I just want you to be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt, especially because you have to work with him. And if this thing turns into a catastrophe it's gonna be awkward."

"I'm aware of the risks." I assured her. "But I still want to try."

"All right." She said, not wanting to cast a pall on my evening. "I hope you have fun tonight."

I smiled. "Thanks. I'll fill you in about it soon."

We said our goodbyes, and I walked to my closet. What on Earth was I going to wear? I had been into the vintage lifestyle for several years, and was grateful to have amassed a collection of clothing, shoes, and essentials for hair and makeup well before going to school.

I tried on quite a few dresses, deeming most of them not dressy enough or too conservative for a date. Then I spotted a corner of a golden skirt toward the back of my closet. I gently pushed the hangers back to get to it, and pulled it out.

The dress was a gold satiny material, sleeveless, with a bateau neckline and elegant gold and pink floral embroidery throughout. The slightly pleated skirt fell to just below my knees. To accessorize, I chose flesh colored stockings, black velvet ankle strap heels, cubic zirconia dangle earrings and a matching bracelet, and a black satin clutch purse from prom junior year of high school.

As I had a few hours to kill before he arrived, I ran a bath. While the tub filled up, I plugged in my rollers and got on the computer, pulling up some vintage hair tutorials on YouTube to experiment with. I settled on an intricate curly down style, as he had already seen me with my hair up and back.

I swapped out my Doors record from the previous night to the soundtrack from _Gentlemen Prefer Blondes_, singing along as I hopped into the tub. Having washed my face, I reached for the rose soap I used for special occasions, making sure I scrubbed away all the remains of the day.

Once I was clean and dried off, I wrapped up in a cozy purple bathrobe and slippers, removing the scarf in my hair and brushing the old curls out. I acted out "Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend" in the mirror as I put my rollers in, cleaning up the bathroom and padding out to my room to unwind, and later, get dressed.

It was six-thirty when I slid the dress on, applied makeup, fixed my hair and touched up my nail polish. But something was missing. My pea coat wasn't enough for this fancy a restaurant. Back to the closet I went, and retrieved a brown and black mink coat that my grandmother left to me, deciding to leave it in the garment bag until it was closer to time.

Then the nerves took hold. A million thoughts swirled in my brain about what would happen. Dreaming of it was one thing, but reality was a whole other ball of wax!

I double checked the contents of my purse to keep the anxious energy at bay: ID, phone, keys, lipstick, debit card, and a small tin of mints. I set my purse on the counter and went to my room one last time, to spray on perfume and get my coat ready.

The buzzer for my apartment sounded, catching me a bit unawares.

"Kate? It's James…I'm sorry I'm a little early…" he said into the speaker.

I ran over and pushed down the "Speak" button. "Oh, it's all right; I'll be right down to let you in!" I said, rushing down the stairs to greet him. I was moving so quickly it was a miracle I didn't trip.

I undid the deadbolt and swung the door open, my face flushing as I saw him.

"Hi," I panted, a little out of breath.

"Hi." He said, in a tone that was completely blown away. "You look stunning."

"Thank you." I said, feeling my cheeks heat up even more. "Please come in."

He followed me up the stairs to my door.

"This is it…" I said when we got inside. "My humble abode."

"It's cute…" he said, looking around with a smile on his face.

"Can I get you something to drink? Water, maybe?" I offered.

"No, I'm good. We'll be leaving shortly anyway." He said. "But thank you."

I smiled and said "You're welcome", noticing him staring.

"What is it?" I giggled.

"I just can't get over how completely gorgeous you look…" He said.

"You're too kind." I said.

"I tell the truth…" he said, smiling at me in a way that made my insides turn to Jell-O.

"I bet you look fabulous too." I flirted back.

"I'll let you be the judge of that…" he laughed slightly, then offered me his arm. "Shall we?"

"Sure, let me just put on my coat." I said. Before I could grab it, he moved to slide it onto my shoulders.

Once it was on, and purse in hand, we ventured out.

The ride there was a little long, so I took the opportunity to bask in the Princeton nightlife as it whizzed past the window.

When we got to a stop light, I heard him singing along to the radio:

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise…"

That tingling warmth in my extremities from the first day we met returned, and I mustered up the courage to join in, harmonizing with him:

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly  
Into the light of the dark black night

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly  
Into the light of the dark black night."

A huge smile ran away from his face as the next song came on. I smiled back, out of the corner of my eye watching his right hand reach for my left.

He hesitated. "May I?" he asked.

My tone was very quiet. "Of course."

He held my hand for the rest of the ride, save for a couple of times when he had to make a turn.

Christine's nagging doubts, and a couple of my own, flitted through my consciousness intermittently, but I pushed them away. Thus far, he showed no glaring signs of trouble. Wrestling with it was that, socially, at least, it was probably gauche for James and I to be out together at all, being that he held a position of power over me. But how could something so enjoyable be wrong?

My new favorite thing was calling him by his first name. It felt less stilted somehow. Though I was still very much a new employee, the casual atmosphere he created while working made me feel the most comfortable I had ever felt than in any position I held in the past.

"Here we are." He said, his voice breaking my thoughts. I peeked out the window to get a better look. A small, wrought-iron replica of the Eiffel Tower was mounted in one corner of the parking lot, strung with white lights throughout. The building was of dark brown siding with red trim, and also had white lights strung attractively on the porte-cochere. The sign was painted red to match, with the name Lahiere's in looped gold script.

I unhooked my seatbelt and went to climb out of the car when he said "Wait a minute…" and hurried over to the passenger side. I looked at him perplexed, that is until he opened the door for me, taking my hand in his and pressing a featherweight kiss to the back of it.

Smiling shyly, I gave his hand a squeeze as we walked up to the entrance. He held that door open for me as well.

"Thank you, dear." I said, testing a new pet name. I could tell he liked it when the tips of his ears were tinted pink, and not from the January cold.

As we were shown a table, my eyes took everything in. The building had once been a house, late 1700s if I had to guess, and the dining areas were sectioned off much like the rooms of a house were. The walls featured charming stained pine paneling and pictures of various French singers, film stars, and Parisian street life. The lighting was low, and each of the tables had deep crimson linens with cream lace runners and black bud vases with a single red rose and baby's breath in each one. In the distance, an older man in a crisp white shirt and black pants played cocktail music on a pristine Baby Grand.

He was correct again; the place really did suit my tastes. How did he master knowledge of such things so swiftly?

My thoughts were broken once more as he pulled my chair out for me and took my coat.

"Well well, am I getting the Cinderella treatment or what?" I remarked softly as I sat down. "Do you treat all your dates like this?"

"Like I said at lunch, politeness isn't passé. And…you're undoubtedly a lady, so you deserve to be treated like one." He said, taking off his own coat.

My doubts resurfaced fleetingly. It sort of gave me the creeps that he seemed to know exactly what to say and when to say it, and went above board with being so respectful. I also found it a little strange that someone his age was still technically single.

I liked him quite a lot. So much that now I was upset for doubting him in the first place. Aside from the slight 'too good to be true' factor, I truly was thrilled to be out.

"Kate…" he said softly, bringing my attention back to the real world. "You were zoning out just now."

"Was I?" I asked dumbly. "I'm sorry…"

"It's all right. I'm just a little worried about you, is all. You did have a hell of a day." He said, reaching for my hand again.

"I'll be just fine." I assured him as my fingers closed around his. It was then that I saw what he was wearing—a black suit, white shirt, and a navy and silver striped tie. His hair had a bit of a fringe in front, which only added to his somewhat youthful features.

"You look very handsome tonight." I said.

"Thank you." He replied, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. We held gazes for a moment, and got a little lost.

"We…we should…look at the menus." He added sheepishly, moving to open his. I did the same.

The appetizers, entrées, and desserts were written in French as well as in English. I had a strong grasp of the language, having studied it when I was younger.

As we perused, a waiter in a white tuxedo shirt and black pants came over, inquiring in a French accent if we had decided on beverages.

Before speaking to him, James asked me "Do you drink?"

"A little, yes." I replied. "A wine by the glass should do nicely."

"Any particular preference?" He questioned.

"Somewhere in the Chardonnay, Blush, or Riesling category." I replied. He seemed delighted that I had some knowledge of wines.

He studied the wine list on the right side of the menu for a moment, and then turned to the waiter. "We'll each have a glass of the Chateau Ste. Michelle, please."

The waiter gave a nod and hurried off to the rack on the far side of the building.

We returned to deciding on what to eat. I was torn between the Bœuf bourguignon, a beef stewed with red wine, and a dish with mussels, garlic, and cream called Moules à la crème Normande, eventually deciding to go with the former.

"What's speaking to you?" I asked him.

"The Coq au vin, it's my favorite." He said.

I knew the chicken dish well. "You've been here before…" I pointed out.

"Yeah, for a hospital sponsor function a few years ago." He explained.

I nodded, half-whispering. "Also, it's a little out of order to be drinking white wine when our dishes are made with red, but I don't think anybody's going to nitpick."

He laughed, letting it slow into a shy grin. "You never cease to amaze me… you know that?"

"I do my best." I teased.

The waiter returned with our wine, and a basket of fougasse bread with whipped brie. He stood awaiting our order.

James ordered the chicken, after my insistence that he go first, and then the waiter turned to me, saying: "Et vous, mademoiselle?"

I smiled. "J'aimerais du Bœuf bourguignon á point, s'il vous plâit, avec des carottes et de la purée de pommes de terre."

I watched James' jaw drop open and just about hit the table. The waiter beamed so brightly it looked like it could split his face. "Bien sûr, mademoiselle." He said, going to the kitchen.

"How…how did you know…how to…" James spluttered, pointing a bit gawkily at the space the waiter previously occupied.

"Seven years of French." I said. "An introduction in middle school and then more seriously in high school."

"God you're wonderful…" he blurted.

I blushed for probably the millionth time that night.

"I mean it." He continued. "You're beautiful, cultured, intellectual, strong-willed, determined…one of the hardest workers I've ever seen…"

I bit my lip. "Is that why you asked me out?"

"Put simply…yeah." He said. "I really think this could go somewhere, don't you?"

"We'll see…" I said cautiously as I spread some cheese on a slice of bread. "The night is young yet."

"Touché." He replied, taking a sip of wine.

"So…what do you do when you're not working or keeping Dr. House entertained?" I asked.

"I read a lot, play squash…I also enjoy old films." He said.

"Me too!" I squealed slightly. "What are your favorites?"

He began to run through a list of titles. "Let's see…_Vertigo_, _Casablanca_, _Monkey Business_, _North By Northwest_, _Butterfield 8_, _The Lady From Shanghai_, _The Maltese Falcon, Singin' in The Rain, Du Barry Was A Lady_, _Gilda…_"

"_Gilda_!"I repeated excitedly. "Rita Hayworth is pretty much a goddess to me."

He nodded. "She was one of the most talented, glamorous women in cinema in the last half century."

"I couldn't agree more." I replied. "Aside from _Gilda_, the dance routines in _You Were Never Lovelier_!"

"Oh yeah…definitely!" he said, smiling. "I'd do Fred Astaire's steps with you… but I'm afraid there's too little room." He added, joking.

"Maybe some other time." I said through my laughter.

James drained his wine glass and went to call the waiter to refill it, noticing mine was empty as well.

"Would you like some more?" he asked.

"Oh no, I think I'll be good with some water, actually." I said, not wanting to rack up the bill too much.

"You know this is on me tonight too, right?" he asked, softly.

"Thank you, James. But if I kept drinking this wine I think it'd look like I was taking advantage of you." I protested.

"I'm not House…" he said. "You don't have to worry about keeping up appearances when we're in private. In fact, you don't have to worry about them at all. If you'd like some more wine... then have some."

I thought about it for a minute, deciding one more glass with dinner couldn't hurt.

"I'd like to order it like you did, though." He added.

"Okay." I said, adopting a teacher-like formality, if only in jest. Then, I paused. "Wait… are you using the present or past perfect tense here? Because the conjugation would be different…"

"Uh…" he stopped to think. "Past perfect."

"Well in that case you'd say: Nous aimerions un peu de vin, s'il vous plâit." I said.

He looked like he was paying more attention to my voice saying the words than the words themselves. My theory was confirmed when he didn't respond right away.

"Care to share what you're thinking with the class?" I teased.

"Just…your pronunciation is flawless, like a native speaker." He said.

I mock chided him. "Trying to be teacher's pet already! Tisk tisk…"

"Anyway…" he said, smirking. "How do you say it again?"

I repeated the phrase, slower. "Nous aimerions un peu de vin, s'il vous plâit."

There was a brief moment of silence before he tried it out. "Nous…nous aimerions un peu de vin, s'il vous plâit."

His accent was a little off, but he absolutely got the point across.

"You did it!" I encouraged. "Ready to put it to the test?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." He said, calling our waiter over with a polite raise of his hand.

"Quick…how do you say 'Excuse me'?" he asked in a hushed tone as the waiter approached.

"Easy! It's a cognate. Excusez-moi." I said.

"Excusez-moi." James said once the waiter arrived. "Nous aimerions un peu de vin, s'il vous plâit."

He nodded, clearing our first round of wine glasses. As he walked away, he smiled, saying to me: "Vous lui apprendrez bien."

"Merci beaucoup." I said with a chuckle.

James raised his eyebrow.

I smiled. "He said I taught you well."

The waiter returned and poured the wine just after I finished speaking.

James raised his glass, giving me another one of his knee-buckling smiles. "I'll drink to that."

I bit my lip and raised my own glass. "Cheers."

A few moments later, the food came.

"Ladies first." He said, waiting for me to try the beef.

"You know, when we're leaving here. I'm renting you a suit of armor." I joked, picking up my fork and knife. "What with all this gallantry."

He laughed quietly, shaking his head.

I sliced the meat thinly, marveling in how it was cooked to perfection. Upon tasting, it virtually melted in my mouth. It had a warm, rich pink center and was smooth, almost buttery in flavor, with a sharp relish from the wine.

I finished the bite. "It's positively delicious! I don't think I've ever had meat this tender."

"Great! I'm glad." He said, cutting a piece of chicken and nudging it toward me on the plate. "Would you like a taste of this?"

"Sure." I said, spearing it on my fork.

The Coq au vin was outrageously good too. "I can see why this is your favorite dish here." I commented as I wiped my mouth so as not to smear my lipstick.

We ate relatively quietly, except for small noises in praise of the fantastic meal before us. He would gaze at me every so often, not for any other reason but sheer enjoyment of my company. I found it funny to think of myself as somebody to be beheld in such a way. I was no one special, yet for all the world James Wilson saw something in me that clearly captivated him. Maybe he was right, maybe this really could be the start of a lasting relationship, either personal or professional, even both.

Having cleaned both of our plates, we sat back from the table, sipping what remained of the wine and trading other little anecdotes about ourselves.

"So, baseball…" I said. "Red Sox or Yankees?"

"Yankees, for sure." He replied.

"Boo!" I teased. "I'm a Boston gal all the way."

"Should make any games we watch together this season pretty interesting then…" He chuckled.

"You mean to watch at home…" I said.

He shook his head. "No, I'll take you when they play at Yankee Stadium."

My eyes went wide. "It's in the Bronx, though! That's an hour and a half there and back."

"So? It's not that far." He said. "We'll even make a day of it. Maybe take in a few museums…"

"You're promising an awful lot on the first date." I pointed out, thinking I sounded ungrateful. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but this is already becoming quite the whirlwind affair."

"What are you so afraid of?" he asked, lowering the tone of his voice.

I sighed. "Understand something. Life has run me ragged for so long that it's my natural inclination to be a little guarded. Not nearly as much or as cynically as say, House, but I won't just dive headlong into a new venture, regardless of what it is. Going to this dinner with you is wonderful, but it's a step away from those walls I've built, which in the long run is good. This is the most adventurous I've felt in quite some time."

He looked a little blue, scratching nervously at the nape of his neck. "I've pursued you too aggressively…"

"Please don't blame yourself, James." I said, taking his hand as a physical manifestation of comfort. "I'll get past this. Another reason I feel any trepidation at all is because I'm still adjusting to your going out of your way for me. Nobody I've gone out with has done that, ever. The relationships I've had weren't so much relationships bur rather casual dates. At risk of sounding too forward, I'm really curious to see where this goes, as you mentioned earlier."

He smiled, loosening up then.

Figuring I couldn't be the only one with a plethora of thoughts swimming around aimlessly, I wondered what was his take on this journey was.

"Let me ask you this, do you have any doubts or fears going in to this experience?"

"Well…to be blunt…I liked you the minute I saw you, even before your first shift." He said. "You looked lovely the day of your interview in that brown tweed skirt suit and pearls. I…I noticed the color brought out your eyes. I wanted to introduce myself, but I didn't feel it was appropriate."

My mouth went slack at this revelation. I had no idea he even saw me that day!

"From that point on I couldn't get you out of my head. Dr. Cuddy mentioned how much she liked you – your professionalism, the way you carry yourself, and god, your credentials spoke volumes. You never once let what I know of you now to deter you from earning this job. She wanted to hire you as soon as possible… and I more than backed her up on that. What scared me…though… is how I felt about you and we hadn't even met. I was going purely on your beauty and what others had told me about your personality. I also knew you're young. The last thing I wanted to do was scare you off… I didn't even know if a May-December relationship appealed to you. All that drove me was that I had to get to know you better."

He took a big breath in, and let it out.

I was completely stunned. "I… I had no idea your feelings ran this long or this intensely."

He sighed, a closed mouth smile stretching across his face. "They have. And I'm so happy you agreed to go out tonight. I'm having a lot of fun."

"Me too." I said. "I'm sorry I put things on a down note."

"Not at all." He replied. "That's what's part of the fun, right? Learning about each other…exploring new things…"

"Exactly." I agreed.

"And I still can't get over how you took charge today. How did you know the 5-FU was the answer?" he asked.

"I weighed the pros and cons of that drug against say, Adriamycin or Folex. As you know both of those list nausea and vomiting as a side effect, and Folex even lists kidney damage in high doses. Why give Marie something that would only exacerbate the problem? The 5-FU had the shortest list of possible side effects, nausea and vomiting not among them, and was the least damaging of the lot." I said.

A look of total awe crossed his face. "I don't know if I would have been able to think as quickly as you did."

"We didn't have a choice." I said. "What concerned me is how much arguing was going on between the fellows. How is one supposed to get anything accomplished? Too much squawking and fussing about in the chicken coop isn't going to produce any eggs, you know?"

He broke into a full laugh. "Your analogies and witticisms are something else…" He said, calming down. "But you're exactly right."

"What can I say, I'm a no nonsense kind of girl." I replied.

"Which is why the hospital will benefit from someone like you." He said. "I know Oncology will for sure."

"We do make a good team." I admitted.

He smiled, and then looked as though a lightbulb had gone off in his head. "Maybe at the next meeting you should bring up teamwork… since discord among the fellows seems to be such an issue."

"Oh, public speaking isn't really my thing…" I began.

"You shouldn't doubt yourself so much. I've seen you blossom in leaps and bounds the past couple of days. I have faith in you." He said.

I raised my eyebrow. "Are you saying that because of the way you feel or…?"

"I'm serious." He said.

I smiled big and bright again. I swore my cheeks were aching with how much I was smiling.

"Are you interested in dessert at all?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I couldn't eat another thing, to be honest." I said as the bill arrived.

"Me either." He laughed. "If it weren't so cold I'd suggest going for a walk after dinner."

"Yeah." I said. "How about I invite you in for tea when we get back to my place?"

"I couldn't impose…" he protested.

"You're not imposing." I said. "How about I do something for you for a change of pace?"

"All right." He said, placing his credit card in the sleeve.

Once we returned to my apartment, I took his coat and placed it beside mine on my bed. As I walked into the kitchen, I noticed him looking around more closely.

"You really do have great taste." He commented.

"Thank you." I said, putting the kettle on.

"Where did you find all of these great pictures?" he asked, examining a black and white image of 1950s teenagers at a soda fountain. I had a lot of old _Life_ magazine photographs featuring mid-century Americana on the walls, plus some classic movie posters.

"I either printed them out myself, had them enlarged and framed, or they were gifts from friends." I said.

He nodded. "You're really big into the whole vintage thing, huh?"

"Yeah, it's definitely a lifestyle, that's for sure." I admitted.

"I can see that." He said.

I reached into the cabinet for two mugs. "You are too, I noticed. I love the posters in your office. _Vertigo_ is on my need-to-watch list."

"You'd love it." He said. "Hitchcock at his finest."

I hummed in agreement, fetching the kettle as it whistled. "Maybe for our second date we could have a nice little movie night."

"I'd really like that." He said, coming to wrap an arm gently around my waist as I poured the tea.

"Me too." I said, feeling warm and fuzzy all over, my voice the softest it had been all evening. "Would you like milk or sugar?"

"Just a splash of milk, please." He said. He let me go to get the jug out of the fridge.

I handed him a mug once I finished stirring.

We exchanged a quiet word of thanks, and sat in the living room after I prepared my own cup.

"You know…" he said, taking a sip. "…I'd really like for you to be my girlfriend."

I was surprised a little at his boldness, but was otherwise very happy. "That'd be great!" I said. "We really have connected well."

"I think so too. And it shouldn't interfere with work at all." he added.

"No not at all. We just keep things on the down low and it should be fine." I said.

"Perfect." he said.

We talked for about a while longer, when we realized just how late it was.

"Oh my god, it's midnight!" I said with a chuckle.

"Is it really?" he asked. "We really let time get away from us."

I tucked a curl behind my ear. "Guess so…" I said, standing to get his coat.

We walked to the door as he put it on.

"I had a really terrific time tonight." He said. "It was nice to get out of the office for a while."

"Dating me isn't exactly getting away from the office." I pointed out with a giggle.

He smiled. "True…but I don't mind it one bit."

He moved closer, and our eyes met. He placed his hand on my cheek, it was pleasantly soft. He leaned in and so did I, his eyes closing as he gently pressed a kiss to my lips. I closed my own eyes and let the contact linger for a fraction of a second.

"Good night, Kate." He said tenderly as we pulled back.

"Good night, James." I said, equally tender. "Please drive safely."

"I will…I promise." He said. "I'll send you a text message when I get in."

He squeezed my hand and went on his way. I watched from the kitchen window as he got into his car, lost in a sea of delirium. Butterflies filled my stomach as I ran my ring finger over my lower lip.

Twenty minutes later, as I was settled in bed with another cup of tea, my phone chirped.

_Just got home. _The text read. _I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Sleep well._

I sank deeper into my pillows, a goofy grin stretched over my features. For once, it seemed, life was starting to fall into place.


	9. Chapter 9 - The New Normal

_Chapter 9 – The New Normal_

Some weeks had passed, and I became even more established at the hospital. Fellows and staff alike, for the most part, would smile and wave at me in the mornings, exchange pleasantries, and I would respond in kind.

The workload was busier than ever. Each day filled me with purpose and drive, and for the first time in months, I could say with absolute certainty that I was truly happy. My mother still continued to send care packages out of the goodness of her heart, but the steady paycheck was without question a huge help, especially with rent. I felt unburdened and in control of that aspect of my life.

My budding relationship with James was the icing on the cake.

A few days earlier, he mentioned how it seemed silly for me to take the bus into work when we could just as easily carpool, but I was ardent in maintaining the ground rules we put in place on the first date, to keep things on the down low. I didn't want there to be talk about us. I explained that that included coming in together, and was grateful when he respected that.

When I flipped on the Weather Channel before my shift that Thursday morning, there was a severe cold advisory for pretty much the entire state of New Jersey, with temperatures plunging well below zero. Grumbling at this, I drank two cups of piping hot coffee with my cinnamon raisin bagel before getting dressed, making sure to put long underwear on underneath my shirt and scrubs and extra thick socks under my boots.

I was walking briskly to the stop, when I saw a very familiar silver sedan pull up, and the driver side window roll down.

"James…" I said, almost scolding him. "You promised."

"I know." He said, nose turning a little red from the frigid air. "But…it's so damn cold I just didn't want you to be out in it too long. Hop in."

He rolled up the window, and I slid into the passenger seat with a resigned chuckle. "The bus has heat, you know…"

"Sure…but does a bus have heated seats and a cup of your favorite hot chocolate waiting for you?" he asked, kissing my cheek.

He had a point. "No, buses aren't usually that nice." I said, picking up the cup. "The driver's not as cute as you, either."

He smiled from ear to ear, merging onto Route 1.

It was pleasant to ride in with him, I had to admit. But it bothered me that he technically broke a promise we had made when we were still in the early stages.

"This can't be a regular thing." I said as we got on the highway. "If I'm not going to freeze to death I'm going to walk to the bus stop."

He sighed. "Kate, honey." He hadn't used a pet name with me before, and I liked it, though not in the current circumstances. "I know you don't want people to know we're a couple just yet…but going so far as to blow a part of your paycheck on bus fare when you don't have to is sort of ridiculous, like we had discussed."

"Ridiculous…" I repeated, taking another sip of the cocoa.

"Yeah…I mean… when I said keep things secret, I meant public displays of affection and that sort of thing…" he said.

My tone was a touch annoyed. "I did too when I agreed. But remember what I said earlier this week, that it also meant carpooling. What's it gonna look like when the other staff, even Dr. Cuddy or House, see us walking in together? I don't want people to assume I'm slacking off or getting special treatment because you're my boyfriend."

"Why do you think they'd assume that right off the bat?" he asked.

"Please." I said in an 'Are you kidding' sort of tone. "If House gets wind of this he'll never let you live it down and you know it. Doesn't help with the whole gold digger image, you know?"

"Ah, you're not so much worried about Dr. Cuddy…or anyone else as you are about House." He deduced.

"One, he's your best friend, two, he and I didn't exactly get off on the right foot." I countered. "I'm more worried about him haranguing you than anything else."

"I know how to deal with it." He said. "All I care about is you, about us."

"You have to care about what he thinks and does on some level." I said.

"Of course. But I'm not dating _him_…am I?" He asked.

"I suppose so." I conceded.

He took my hand. "Just relax, okay? It'll all be fine."

I nodded, still insisting we go in separately to keep up appearances. He obliged, still thinking it was overblown.

When James unlocked the office and went in, he shivered a little. "Is it cold in here to you?" he asked me as I walked up.

"No more than usual," I said, setting my belongings on the couch. "But we did just come in from outside, so maybe I haven't warmed up enough to notice any real difference." I said.

"Huh. Usually on days like this…the heat is rip-roaring though the building." He commented.

I shrugged, digging in to the fresh pile of patient information.

By midday, the heat situation hadn't improved, if anything, it was colder. I grabbed my scarf out of my bag, wrapping it tight around my neck.

"Okay, you're right." I said. "It's definitely cold in here." I said, rubbing my palms together.

"I'm gonna find out what's going on. You stay put just in case any calls come in." he said.

"O-okay." I shivered, and James walked to the elevator. From the open door, I could see other doctors and nurses walking around in similar states of dress to my own. Something was definitely up.

Dr. Cuddy happened to be in the elevator as it opened, stepping out onto the fourth floor.

"Just the person I wanted to see…" James said. "Do you know why it's freezing up here? The patients will be complaining soon…"

"I know, I know…" she said in a harried tone, running a hand through her jet black curls. "The heating system failed."

James' face registered distress. "For the whole building?"

"Yes." She confirmed. "I called someone to repair it already. The window they gave was two hours. Apparently other buildings in the area are experiencing the same problem."

"Son of a…" he hissed quietly.

"I've already instructed the other nurses to provide patients extra blankets and hot beverages as is permissible." She said. "Tell Kate to do the same."

"Will do…" he said despairingly.

"Guess we're like Eskimos in an ig-igloo." I chattered when he returned.

"You heard?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'll get right on keeping the patients warm, poor dears." I said, walking hurriedly to their rooms.

I worked right through my lunch, bringing in meals, making sure every single person had at least two blankets around their torsos and feet, and a choice of hot tea or coffee.

"There…" I said to a new patient, Mrs. Mason, as I tucked her in. "All cozy."

"Thank you." She said. "Any idea when the heat will come on again?"

"I've been told they called someone in to fix it. As more updates come in I'll do my best to let you all know." I said.

She thanked me again, and then asked: "Could I have extra chocolate pudding with my lunch today?"

"Let me double check with Dr. Wilson on that, Mrs. Mason." I said. "I'll be right back."

As I walked to the office, I heard a voice that could only be House's say "I told you not to get involved…"

My stomach sank. He knew already. But how?

I knocked on the door. "Excuse me, Dr. Wilson?" I used my formal tone even though it was probably futile to do so given present company.

"What is it, Kate?" James asked, some hurt in his eyes.

"Mrs. Mason in Room 443 wants to know if she can have extra chocolate pudding with her lunch." I said, ignoring the set of azure eyes boring holes into me.

"I don't see why not…" James said. "Are all the patients settled with blankets and everything?"

"Yep. All taken care of." I said, feeling a trifle uncomfortable. "I'll be getting that pudding now." And with that I went to the food cart.

Later on, I came in with a handful of lab results to review, glad to see that we were alone. "He knows." I said flatly, closing the door behind me. "This is exactly what I was trying to avoid."

"I know you were." He said, visibly aggravated. "But he's got eyes and ears in the back of his head I swear… when I asked him how he knew he replied with 'I'm not an idiot'."

"So what now?" I asked, flopping defeated into the chair opposite him.

"I'll handle it." He said.

"How?" I persisted. "Obviously the plan of going in separately isn't effective."

He sighed. "Look Kate… I think the whole idea of pretense isn't the best. Everyone's going to find out eventually and…as long as we keep things professional…no one should say anything."

"But…" I began.

"I know you're a private person. I am too..." He said. "But House already knows. He won't talk unless he thinks it'll benefit him or if he feels he needs to intervene further."

"But how can we determine that?" I asked.

"We can't. We just have to take things day by day…" He said.

I frowned. "I don't know, James…"

"Like I told you in the car, it'll be fine." He reassured me. "To take your mind off this, how about we have that relaxing movie night tomorrow night?"

"Sounds good, though I'm still a little upset that you broke the promise to keep things under wraps," I said, still frowning.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking down, and then back into my eyes. "But I couldn't let you walk in the bitter cold…what kind of boyfriend would I be?" He paused. "Can you forgive me?"

"Of course," I said, quietly. "But any promises we make in the future, please work on keeping them."

"I will." He said.

I smiled. "Good."

As we reached a lull in our conversation, a low rumble came from the radiator.

We looked at each other, hopeful, and then warmth began to spread throughout the room.

"Thank goodness!" I said. "I thought my fingers and toes were gonna go numb!"

He smiled, calling Dr. Cuddy to see if the heat had kicked on everywhere else. "Yep…we're patched." He said, hanging up the receiver.

"Fabulous! I'll go tell the patients." I said, going to walk down the hall.

"Oh uh…by the way…have you eaten yet today?" he asked.

I stopped, standing in the door frame. "Not since breakfast, why?"

"You should eat." He said.

"I'll manage; stop fussing over me so much." I said, smirking.

He shook his head and laughed, looking over the paperwork.

When I got home, I checked my phone to see a new message from Christine. It had been a while since I called her. I was so swamped lately that I just didn't have the time.

I pulled her number from my contact list, hearing it ring twice before she picked up.

"Hi, my long lost best friend!" she said cheerfully.

I laughed at her greeting. "Hey, Chris, sorry I haven't been in touch."

"Oh, too busy with James, huh?" she teased.

"Well, no, work has been crazy too. We've had quite an influx of new patients, and the hospital is up for review by the board of directors in March, so we have to make sure all our ducks are in a row starting now." I explained.

"I hear ya." She said. "The nursing home is up for re-accreditation as well, but in February."

I glanced at the calendar. "Yikes, that's coming up!"

"Don't remind me." She said, chuckling. "So how have things been with him, anyway? I haven't heard a peep since the night of your first date."

"Good." I prefaced. "Maybe we should get together tonight and we can catch up."

"Yeah!" she said. "I'm down for that. Maybe I could color your hair? It probably needs it."

I looked in the refrigerator's reflection, seeing three inches' worth of roots. "It could use a sprucing up."

"Okay. I'll pick up the color at the drugstore and be right over. What shade do you use again?" she asked.

I thought for a minute. "Um…that Garnier stuff. The darkest red shade for brunettes."

"Cool! I just got a coupon for it in Sunday's circular." She said.

"I could give you the money to get it… times are better now." I suggested.

"Don't worry about it." She said. "See you soon."

"See ya." I said, hanging up.

At six-fifteen the buzzer sounded. I prepared the bathroom before she arrived – lining the floor and counter with large black trash bags and old towels, wearing a ratty pair of sweats.

We hugged when she came in, and after I poured some sodas, went straight into the bathroom to begin our girls' night. She was wearing an old t-shirt and jeans.

"So…" she said, putting black nitrile gloves on. "You said things with James are going well?"

"Yeah," I said, pulling a chair in front of the sink and lowering myself into it. "Still very much in the honeymoon phase."

"Naturally," she said, mixing the color. "So tell me all about the date!"

I smiled. "It was wonderful! He was ever the gentleman throughout – helping me into my coat, holding doors, paying for the meal, kissing my hand…"

"Still keeping up the knight in shining armor routine, eh?" she asked.

"Yes." I said. "I even joked that I should rent him a suit of armor!"

"Good one!" she said, starting to apply the color to my roots.

"He found it funny, anyway." I said. "The food was unbelievable, too."

"I bet! Lahiere's has five stars on Yelp and Urban Spoon." She said.

"It lived up to the rating, certainly." I said, sipping my soda. "But that's not the best part."

"Oh my…" she said, excited. "What happened?"

"I invited him in for tea afterward, and he got a little brave and asked me to be his girlfriend. And I agreed!" I said, my face going red.

"Wow! That's awesome!" she said.

"It is. I don't usually jump into things quickly, as you know, but I guess I felt the time was right. The pace is different than what I'm used to, I'll confess, but I'm enjoying it." I said.

"I'm so happy for you." She said.

Thanks." I said. "We sort of got into an argument today though."

"About what?" she asked, working towards the crown of my head.

"You see, on that date we set out some ground rules about how to handle our relationship at work. I was, and still am, reluctant about people finding out about us. We promised to keep things hush-hush. I don't want assumptions being made. Like I'm getting special treatment or something like that." I explained.

"Sure…" she said eager for me to continue.

"One of the things I suggested was coming in to work separately – me taking the bus and him driving in. He thinks that's impractical, an unnecessary expense because now that we're together we can just as easily carpool…" I sighed.

"I can honestly see both sides on this one." She said, sitting on the counter as the color set. "I know you don't want to make a fuss with your relationship and keep up appearances, which is valid, but I also understand where James is coming from. Why spend the money if you don't have to? Though I don't entirely trust him yet, he's just trying to be kind and help you out."

"Don't I know it." I said. "Because who should show up at my stop this morning but him, warm car and hot chocolate at the ready."

She almost spit out the swallow of soda she took. "You were going to take the bus? Are you insane? It was fifteen below today!" she squeaked. "That was terrific of him to pick you up."

"It really was." I admitted. "But he broke the promise and…"

"Why does that matter?" she asked. "He didn't want you to, like, die of frostbite. What's wrong with that?"

"I know but it's the principle of the thing." I countered. "He thinks the pretense is a waste of time."

"I see that you're trying to be careful, but James is right, you're taking that just a bit too far." She said. "For better or for worse, the more serious you get, people are going to find out."

I rubbed the back of my neck and cleared my throat. "Bit late for that…"

"Who told?" she asked.

"No one told. House knows somehow. He won't say more than that. Maybe he just inferred it; you know how he is. He just told James that he warned him not to get involved and when asked how he knew what was happening, he said he's not an idiot." I said.

She groaned. "Oh brother…what are you gonna do?"

"There's not a whole lot we can do." I sighed. "James promised House wouldn't say anything unless he felt it would benefit his own needs or if he felt it necessary to interfere."

"But there's no guarantee of when or if that'll happen." Christine pointed out, moving to check the color's progress.

"I know…" I said. "I have to go with James' word on this. And other than this morning, which now I realize was a non-issue, I believe him."

"I still think their relationship is weird." She said, sliding me over to the sink.

"I agree. It's almost like one has dirt on the other and the friendship has to be maintained so neither will spill the beans." I said.

"You might be on to something there." She said as she shampooed out the excess dye. "And in that case, like I told you before, watch it."

"I will." I said, wiping a droplet of water from my cheek.

"Do you have any more dates coming up or…?" she asked.

"Yeah, he wants to have a movie night tomorrow night. We didn't get to discuss any details though." I said.

"That can be fun…" she mused.

"Definitely," I agreed, sitting up as she squeezed the water out of my hair with a towel.

"What are you thinking of doing for it?" she asked.

I looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Like, are you gonna make something and bring it to his place since he's already been here?" she asked.

"That's an idea…maybe I could cook something, or have supper brought in and I can make dessert!" I suggested.

"Uh…" Christine blushed.

"I mean as in baked goods, not have me _be_ the dessert, silly goose!" I laughed, whacking her arm with the towel.

"Phew." She said. "Speaking of dinner, I'm hungry."

I stood up, wiping any remnants of dye from my forehead and ears. "Want to order a pizza? I've got plenty of money left over from rent, and you bought me dinner once already. I want to start paying it forward."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Yeah, a large is like what, twelve bucks?" I asked rhetorically.

"Yeah, that's not too bad." she said. "Where do you want to order from?"

"Roman's?" I suggested. "Been craving a prosciutto parmesan pizza for a while."

"Haven't had one of those in forever!" she said. "I'll order, since you're buying."

We cleaned up the bathroom, walking back out to the kitchen. She found the number from the takeout menu on the fridge, and called it in on her phone.

"Psst! How are we going to pay?" she asked.

"Just put it on my card, we'll tip in cash." I said.

She saluted, finishing the call. "They said it'll be here in about twenty minutes."

"Excellent!" I said, fishing a five out of my purse as my own phone rang. I took it off the charger, not having time to look at the name before answering. "Hello?"

"Hello, beautiful." James' voice said.

My cheeks went pink. "Hello yourself. What's up?"

"Just wanted to find out about tomorrow night." He said.

"Yeah, I'm still for it." I said, starting to pace the floor. When Christine mouthed asking who it was, I mouthed James' name back to her.

She giggled and gave me a thumbs-up.

"I was thinking…um…since you came over here last time, how about we have the movie night at your place?" I asked.

"That'd be great!" he said. "You think dinner in… or…?"

The smile was prevalent in my voice. "I was thinking I'd cook something for us, actually."

"Ooh…like what?" he asked, clearly excited.

"Well…I have an excellent recipe for southern style macaroni and cheese." I said. "All it needs, besides the noodles and cheddar cheese, is sour cream, butter, milk, and three eggs."

I could hear shuffling on the other end; he must have been looking around. "Good news…I have all of those things."

"It's settled then!" I said. "I'll even bring a couple of my favorite movies, so we have a variety."

"This is shaping up to be quite the evening!" he said. "Why don't you bring a change of clothes to work so…we can head straight here after?"

"Fine by me." I said. "Listen, sweetie, I have to go, my friend Christine's here and dinner's on the way."

"All right then… I won't keep you any longer. You girls have fun." He said.

"We will." I said.

"Good night." He said, his tone getting softer.

"Good night." I replied, hanging up.

Christine read the look on my face as I put my phone away. "Sweetie?" she teased. "You've got it bad."

I bit my lip. "I really do, don't I."

"Absolutely. You get this faraway look in your eyes every time his name comes up, even." She pointed out. "Worse when you hear his voice. I guess I can't blame you though."

I smiled as the doorbell rang.

"Our pie has arrived." I said, grabbing the tip money off the counter, going to answer the door.

Once the food had cooled enough to eat, we made an indoor picnic of sorts in the living room, each pulling out a slice.

"Do you think you could fall for him?" she asked, doing battle with a piece of cheese.

"You mean like… love?" I asked, finishing a bite.

"Uh huh," She affirmed.

"I don't know, maybe. It's awful soon to tell." I said. "Besides, I don't feel like I've learned everything about him yet. How can I say I love him if I don't have all the facts?"

"Yeah." She agreed. "And how old is he?"

"Um…forty-one. I did the math when I looked at one of his degrees the other day." I said.

"Hmm…" she mused. "It's unusual that someone his age would still be single, until now of course."

"You know, I thought so too." I said, reaching for another piece. "But maybe he hasn't found the right woman yet."

"That could be." She said.

"And you know what else, he saw me the day of my interview, he said his feelings for me started right then." I added, still in disbelief over that fact.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed. "He's been on your tail for a while."

"Guess so." I said. "It's really bugging me that House knows though. Him I definitely do not trust."

"For sure. I just hope he doesn't blab to Dr. Cuddy or something." She said.

I nodded. "I'll keep a leery eye, that's for certain."

"I would." She affirmed. "Also keep your eye out for any context clues about things James may be keeping from you."

"Okay." I said, even though with my feelings I found that difficult to believe.

"Question," she said.

"Shoot." I replied.

"Do you guys have any days off?" she asked. "Because I'd like to meet him."

"Well, I get one weekday off every week, and one weekend off a month. James' schedule is more flexible, barring any unforeseens, consults, and other appointments. As you would expect, regardless of where we are, we're always on call." I said.

"Of course," she said. "My day off has changed, by the way. It's Wednesday now instead of Friday."

"Gotcha," I said. "Maybe after your accreditation period settles down we can arrange something."

"Yeah, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." She said. "I really hope date number two goes as well as the first."

"I hope so too." I agreed.

"And I've had your cooking before, so he's in for a treat." She added.

"Thanks, Chris. You always have my back." I said.

She smiled, shrugging. "What are friends for?"


	10. Chapter 10 - Too Soon

_Chapter 10: Too Soon_

The next morning was mercifully warmer than the last. I awoke with that same sense of purpose, but I was worried about what novel way House might try to work against us. The reverse side of the coin was, being that they were friends, maybe underneath that gruff exterior and devil-may-care attitude he genuinely was trying to look out for James. But why?

Figuring I should leave well enough alone before I caused myself undue anxiety, I contemplated the evening to come. It would be interesting to be on not so neutral territory – I wondered what his home looked like. Moreover, I wondered what movies he selected. Film noir, romance, or a period drama perchance?

Despite my concerns and wanting to be careful, James was essentially everything I could ever want in a partner. He wasn't too cloying, and always had my best interests in mind, it seemed. Holding a grudge for his minor lapse the day before seemed too vainglorious – and he did have a reason, and that reason was to protect me in the long run. I'd consider riding in with him if we could keep House at bay. But that was a conundrum for a later date.

I brushed my hair into _Gilda_-style waves after dressing and packing my messenger bag. I shifted the contents over to make room for that night's outfit – a leopard print cashmere sweater with an off the shoulder Bardot neckline, and form fitting black slacks. I wrapped a pair of black suede ballet flats in a plastic grocery bag, nestling them inside as well.

Going over to the entertainment center, I packed my copy of _Now, Voyager_ to add to our film queue.

I caught the bus just as it pulled in, taking a seat toward the front. Bored with the tune of rumbling axels and the grind of pavement beneath rubber, I dug around in the pockets of my bag for my iPod.

Walking in the office I was singing somewhat softly, with hardly a care in the world.

"Maybe this won't last very long  
But you feel so right  
And I could be wrong  
Maybe I've been hoping too hard  
But I've gone this far  
And it's more than I hoped for

Who knows how much further we'll go on  
Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone  
I'll take my chances  
I forgot how nice romance is  
I haven't been there for the longest time…"

"Morning." James smiled from his desk, halting my reverie.

"Oh um…morning. I was just…" I blathered, yanking the headphones from my ears and setting my bag down.

"Don't let me stop you…" he said, chuckling softly. "I was rather enjoying it."

I went red. "So what's on tap for today?"

"No fires to put out thus far… there's some labs to order and annotate, prescriptions too." He said. "I was just about to go see…" before he could finish speaking, the phone rang. He excused himself.

"Hello Patricia, how are you?" he answered.

Patricia was Marie's eldest daughter. Marie's breast cancer was showing signs of being beaten, much to everyone's delight. In the past, Patricia's position as a stock broker in New York meant she faced an uphill battle with getting time off to see her mother, but now it was finally becoming easier.

"Oh that's wonderful news! We'll be right in!" I heard him say, a bright smile lighting up his face.

"Marie's hair has come back completely!" he said excitedly upon hanging up.

"Fantastic!" I said, following him to her room.

"Well if it isn't Cary Grant and Rita Hayworth!" Marie joked as we entered.

We laughed, each giving her a hug.

"Congratulations, Marie. I'm so happy for you." James said. She responded with warm gratitude.

I got a little misty eyed when it was my turn, saying my own well wishes.

"Aww, no leaky eyes now, kiddo." She said, handing me a tissue from her table.

"Happy tears." I murmured, wiping the stray tear or two that fell.

James moved to hug Patricia, each remarking about Marie's miraculous progress and road to recovery.

Meanwhile, Marie called me over to sit beside her. She picked up her hand mirror; an ornate silver plated one she brought from home, gazing into it.

"It's incredible…" she said, awed. "My hair's got the same natural wave as it did in '41."

I smiled. "Yes, often times the chemo will reset time's effect on hair."

"You're not kidding!" she commented, and then added, lower, setting the mirror down. "Will you do me a favor?"

"Of course." I replied softly.

"Will you set it in pin curls for me?" she asked.

"Now?" I asked. "I don't have anything to…"

She beamed. "Not to worry, I've got all my pins here. I had Trish bring them with her."

"I'd be honored to." I said, touched.

"Dr. Wilson." I said, getting his attention.

"Yes, Kate?" he asked.

"Marie has asked me to set her hair." I said. "Is it okay if I get started?"

"Go right ahead." He smiled, and then said to Marie. "You're in good hands…what with the lovely styles she's created on herself."

My face colored and I looked down for a moment.

"I don't doubt it!" Marie said, grinning.

"Shall we leave you to it, Mama?" Patricia asked. "Dr. Wilson and I have to discuss your next treatment steps. We'll be just outside." And with that, she handed me a bag full of silver double-pronged clips, and a rat tail comb.

"Okay, sweetheart." Marie said, waving at them as they left.

I re-positioned myself on the bed so I could easily reach. As I sectioned and curled each piece of her snow white hair, we sang Andrews Sisters songs and talked about changes in society.

"All set, my dear." I said, gently tying the silk scarf I also found in the bag around her head, finishing the ends in an attractive bow. "When I bring your lunch I'll brush it out for you, if you want."

"All right, angel." She said. "You really are one, you know."

"Thank you." I said, giving her another light hug as Patricia and James walked in.

"Oh damn!" Marie swore mildly. "You know what I forgot? Trish sweetie, in your purse, get the picture."

I tilted my head in curiosity. Patricia handed me a sepia toned photograph with a white scalloped edge that was slightly yellowed. In it, stood a young woman saluting proudly in a nurse's uniform, in front of a destroyer bearing the name _Raleigh_. On the reverse was written:

_Marie Elizabeth LaCroix_

_Pearl Harbor, HI_

_October 1941_

My eyes filled with tears for the second time that day. "It's… you're so beautiful." I said in watery voice.

James looked like his heart melted on the spot. Patricia and Marie both smiled.

"I wanted you to have it." Marie said. "Just a little reminder to keep the faith when times get rough."

"Thank you so much, I'll treasure it always." I said, fully crying.

Both women hugged me now.

"You were instrumental in saving Mama's life." Patricia said. "I can't thank you enough."

"You are eternally welcome." I said. "I love when I can help someone and see them smile."

"It shows." Patricia said.

We bid our goodbyes and James and I returned to the nitty gritty of the day at hand.

"I have a consult in about twenty minutes, and there were some prescription and lab orders needing to be filled out as we were discussing before…." He told me. "I know you haven't had much experience in doing that on your own, but I think you've got it covered."

I saluted very much like in Marie's picture. "Sir yes sir!" I said, smiling. He laughed, going off to his appointment.

I sat in the chair and began to tackle the orders, when a knock came on the door courtesy of a flame adorned cane. I glanced up briefly.

"Come in, House." I said, looking back at my paperwork.

He entered, but did not sit.

"Keep it brief, please, I'm working." I said, still avoiding his gaze.

"I know about you and Wilson." He said in his usual brusque tone.

"I know that you know." I said, leaving the doctor signature line blank on an order for Velban and setting it aside. "Why bother to tell me something that's already fact?"

"Because while I think the relationship is a mistake, in giving it some thought I'm glad to see that for the time being he isn't miserable." His tone was smoother now, a little cool.

That made me look up again, frowning.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"He's had a rough life." House continued. "I won't say much more than that."

"Fine." I said, hoping that was the end of the conversation.

He sighed. "Just… treat him well, okay?"

I frowned a second time, but I found myself nodding as he left.

"What in the fresh hell…?" I muttered to myself. I decided to not let it faze me, and to focus instead on the milestone of Marie's certain remission.

As I was getting changed for the evening, what House had mentioned kept playing back in my mind. Why did he feel it necessary to tell me something so personal, something that James probably would have revealed in his own time?

I toyed with the idea of talking to him about it, ultimately scrapping it in favor wanting to have an enjoyable evening together.

I waited for him in the lobby, sharing a shy smile as we walked to his car.

"So…where did you get the recipe for the macaroni and cheese you're making?" he asked.

"It's actually one of Paula Deen's, on the Food Network you know?" I said.

"Yeah, I've heard of her." He said. "I can't wait to try it…" he said, turning the key in the ignition.

"I'm glad." I said, smiling, noticing a square, white pastry box nestled snugly in the backseat.

"What's that?" I asked, hooking my thumb toward it.

"After lunch today I went to The Little Chef… the bakery on South Tulane?" he said. "I picked up some tiramisu for dessert tonight."

"Oooh…" I said. "Getting fancy on me again, huh?"

We laughed.

"What are you gonna do with Marie's picture?" he asked as we headed south on Route 206 to Elm Road.

"Frame it and put it in my room." I replied. "That woman is a treasure."

"She is…that's such a special gift." His expression was visibly moved. "Do you have any idea the effect you're having on the patients?"

I hadn't, to be honest. I simply saw it as doing my job above what was expected and connecting with others in an empathetic way. "Tell me?" I asked softly.

"They adore you…" he said as we slowed at an intersection. "They always tell me what a sunny disposition you have…how helpful you are in answering questions and easing fears. Their outlooks are becoming less and less bleak…you're incredible, honey."

There was that name again. This time, it made my face erupt in pure joy. House's revelation seemed a distant memory.

"Thank you." I said. "I've never been more contented than I am right now, honest to goodness. I feel at peace."

"I'm so glad." He said, turning down another street, Prospect Avenue, parallel parking in front of a row of condominiums overlooking Carnegie Lake.

He turned to me, smiling. "We're here."

I let out a whistle, taking in as much of the building as I could see sitting down. "I like it already."

"Just wait." He said as we climbed out of the car. Our arms braced our belongings as we rode the elevator up to the top floor.

In the entryway, I swapped out my winter boots for the flats, following him inside when he opened the door. We hung our coats on the rack.

Though it was nighttime, I could tell that during the day the open floor plan of the art deco space afforded a lot of light to pour in. The furnishings were all in earth tones or hunter green, the tables were of rich, warm woods. There were large windows everywhere, the biggest being in the living room. James put the tiramisu in the fridge, and I didn't see where he went after that.

I heard his voice say "Kate…come here. I want to show you something." I followed the sound to the living room.

When I entered, he was finishing pulling back the draperies. He turned and beckoned, coming to stand behind me.

My eyes were met with one of the most breathtaking views I had ever seen. Carnegie Lake glittered like a jewel with the moonlight and sprawl of the city around it. The lights twinkled and glowed warm orange as they bounced off the buildings.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" he whispered in my ear as I felt his arms wrap around my waist, his head coming to rest on my shoulder.

I nodded. "It's amazing."

Our gazes turned away from the picturesque scene and instead focused on each other. He regarded me with a sudden intensity, drinking in every detail of my face. He leaned down and kissed my lips, keeping his movements slow and gentle, but lingering. We turned to better face each other, my arms winding around his neck as his hands cupped the back of my head, tenderly moving through the waves of my hair.

"James…need to breathe…" I murmured after several minutes, giggling softly.

"Oh…right…" he said sheepishly.

I bit my lip, heart still thrumming from the contact.

"Been wanting to do that all day." He confessed.

My cheeks flooded with color. "It was nice…" I said, voice still very quiet.

He smiled, but it was coyer than earlier.

"You look so pretty." He complimented.

"Thank you." I said.

"Then again you always do…" he added.

"Stop…" I said, blushing again.

He chuckled. "Listen… I'm going to go get changed into something more casual. When I come back…I'll show you where everything in the kitchen is for when you're ready."

"Okay." I said, sitting on the couch. I looked all around. There were more movie posters like he had in his office, and several books. Classics, mostly, like _Moby Dick_ and _The Age of Innocence_.

He came out a split second later, still in work attire, apologizing.

"I'm sorry…" he said. "May I get you something to drink? I feel like I've been a bit of a heel tonight…"

"Relax, you're doing fine. Get changed first and we'll worry about beverages later." I soothed.

He nodded, smiling again, emerging a little while later in well tailored dark blue jeans, a McGill University sweatshirt, and sneakers.

"Alrighty…" he said, padding over to the fridge as I tagged along. "To drink we have Coke, water, OJ, iced tea, milk…I could also mix you a drink or make tea."

"I'll have iced tea, please." I said.

"You got it." He replied, pouring some into a green tumbler and handing it to me. He got water for himself.

He gave me a tour of the kitchen, pointing out that the colander and casserole dish were kept in the left cabinet below the coffee maker, pots and pans in the drawer below the oven, and that utensils could be found in the drawer next to the sink. I took note of it as he also gave me a tour of the rest of his home. Everything was organized and tidy – with a definite scholarly air.

"So yeah…this is my little corner of the world…" he said, leaning against the door frame leading to a small library.

"You really do have great taste – another thing we have in common." I said.

"Thank you." He said, the next minute his stomach rumbled.

"I'll start dinner then?" I asked.

"If you wouldn't mind." He said, blushing a bit.

"Not at all." I said, going to the fridge.

He adopted the role of sous chef, moving ahead of me and getting out the ingredients as I got the dishes I'd need.

I preheated the oven to 350 and started to par boil the noodles. He asked what he could do to lend a hand.

"Um…you could beat the three eggs for me, if you want, and measure out the sour cream." I said.

"How much sour cream?" He asked, stirring the yolks in a circular motion with a fork until a yellow froth formed.

"Half a cup." I said, removing the noodles from the heat after cooking about four minutes.

"You know this recipe by heart…" He commented, finishing beating the eggs and scooping out the sour cream.

"It's my go to for this type of meal." I said. "A big hit at family parties."

"I bet." He said. "Do I combine the sour cream with the eggs?"

"Oh, um, yes, sorry." I said, losing where I was momentarily. "Then add a cup of milk and a teaspoon of salt."

"Don't worry about it." He said, getting to work.

I drained the pasta, mixing in a generous amount of cheddar cheese, slightly over two cups, after returning it to the pot.

"Oh crap!" I exclaimed. "I forgot all about the butter." I felt awkward about doing so after what he said about the recipe.

He brought over the bowl with the other ingredients, speaking calmly. "I got it…how much of that do you need?"

"Four tablespoons cut into pieces." I said.

He prepared the butter as I poured in the egg, sour cream, and milk mixture.

"How's that look?" he asked once he finished.

"Perfect, drop it on in there." I said.

He spooned the butter into the pot, and I struggled to give it a final stir, not able to get enough leverage.

"Need help?" he asked.

"Yeah." I admitted, still a little embarrassed.

I stepped aside as he handily dug the spoon to the bottom of the pot, blending everything well. He spooned it into the casserole dish too, smoothing it into a uniform layer.

"This looks delicious." He said. "Does it need anything else?"

"Just some more cheese." I said, sprinkling a heaping handful over the top as the oven beeped.

"I…have a suggestion." He said.

"Go ahead." I replied.

He gestured with his hands as he spoke. "I have breadcrumbs with Italian seasoning…maybe some of those on top would be good too?"

My eyes lit up. "Oh, that'd be great! Will you do the honors?"

"Absolutely." He said, retrieving the bag from the cupboard next to the fridge, dusting a thin coating over the cheese.

"Excellent." I said, putting on potholders and sliding the dish into the oven. "Now, it bakes for about forty minutes."

"Sounds good. Want to start a movie in the meantime?" he recommended.

"Sure!" I said. "I brought _Now, Voyager_, but we could start with one of your own if you wish."

He paused for a minute. "Hmm…how about a light hearted comedy? _Bringing Up Baby?_"

"Yes! Haven't seen that in so long!" I squealed.

I could tell by the look on his face that he found my giddiness endearing. He put in the DVD, and as it went to the menu, he got an extra pillow and a thick knitted blanket, placing the pillow on the end of the couch facing the television.

"Make yourself at home." He said, taking off his sneakers and putting them aside. I took off my flats, revealing red painted toenails.

He sat on the couch and hoisted himself up onto it, fluffing the blanket out. He rested his back against the pillow, patting the vacant spot on the cushions next to him.

My stomach fluttered as traces of the dream I had in his office came to mind. I settled in, my back flush against his chest. As he pressed play, I felt his hand slide down beneath the blanket to find my own hand, lacing our fingers together.

When Huxley tried to impress Peabody to get the needed one million dollar endowment for his museum, the oven went off. James reached to pause the movie.

"I'll get it." I said, moving off of him.

"No, allow me..." He insisted. "You're the guest." And with that, he kissed my cheek and went to fetch the food.

"Hon?" he called from the kitchen. "How much would you like?"

"Just a spoonful or two is good, thank you." I called back.

He walked back into the living room, serving me first. "Would you care for a refill on your drink?"

"Mmm…I think I'm ready for a glass of wine, if you have any that is. I don't mean to impose…" I said.

"No imposition at all." He said, setting down his own plate. "I have a 2011 Chardonnay, actually."

"That will pair up nicely." I said. He smiled and poured the wine, and we repositioned ourselves on the couch again – meals in our laps and wine glasses on coasters on the nearby coffee table.

"Kate…this is absolutely out of this world." He said quietly in praise of the food. "Best macaroni and cheese I've had, and I'm not just saying so."

I grinned, kissing his nose after taking a sip of wine. "You're welcome."

He grinned too, taking another bite.

I started to think how easy it was to be with him, how natural it felt. He seemed happy, contrary to what House alluded to, but maybe my presence was helping that. I had to admit, we did make a cute couple, and we seemed to be good for each other.

We finished a second helping of the pasta when the movie ended, chests settling down after the heaving of laughter.

James cleared the dishes away and wrapped up the leftovers. I followed into the kitchen to wipe up any mess left from cooking. He asked if we could watch the movie I brought.

We each had a piece of tiramisu right as Charlotte arrived in Rio. Not long after, I felt James getting closer and closer to me as we cuddled. I scooted into him and rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady thudding of his heart as I was certain mine was gaining speed. By Charlotte's second visit to the sanitorium he was holding me completely, every now and again swooping in to place a tiny kiss on my jaw or shoulder. Those little gestures kept continuing until his lips found mine again. This time it was even more intense, his hands tangling in my hair as opposed to just running through it, my hands came up to splay on his back and went into his hair as well, the end credits playing in the background.

"I'm falling for you…" he murmured softly against my lips.

My mind went into a tailspin. The thoughts I had about us being sweet and maybe even right for each other were just a toe dip in the pool. I wasn't ready for something as deep and committing as love.

I broke the kiss, scrambling to think how best to respond.

"Don't let's ask for the moon…" I gasped. "When we have the stars." My eyes searched his.

"What?" he said on a breath. "That's from the…"

"I know." I said. "James…I like you. Very much. I'll even say I care about you. But I can't say I'm falling for you…not yet."

The pained look that greeted me made me feel like a perfect idiot, even if what I said was how I truly felt.

"I should go…" I finally said.

"No…please stay." He was practically begging, and it hurt my heart.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have." I said, kissing his cheek. "I have tomorrow off. Maybe I'll call you and we can talk then. When we don't have a fair amount of alcohol and the atmosphere of Old Hollywood romance buzzing in our skulls."

"Okay." He sighed.

I smiled sympathetically, though I was sure the ache I felt was prevalent on my features. I allowed him a chaste kiss goodnight before asking him to take me home.

We drove the entire way to Plainsboro in silence, unsure of what the next day would bring, or how it would bode for the future.


	11. Chapter 11 - Sea Change

_Chapter 11: Sea Change_

I flipped and flopped like a fish out of water, the sheets tangled around my knees. At around four in the morning I decided it was useless just to lie there awake upsetting myself.

The pain in his eyes was fresh in my memory as I pulled cleaning supplies out the kitchen cabinets. In times of duress, I was known to ease the trapped feeling that was companion to it through copious amounts of housework.

Our evening had been going swimmingly up until his confession. I knew people fell in love at different rates, but close to a month and a half seemed awfully quick. It just wasn't possible, in my mind, to know someone well enough to love them in that span of time. Bonds like that formed in deep, lasting relationships took several months, even years to cultivate. Not two dates and a mutual affinity for 1930s screwball comedies. We'd probably have gone on more dates had we not been so busy, to be fair.

The fatigue I felt from the hours I kept at the hospital coursed through my arms as I scrubbed the counters and sink, but I pressed on.

An epiphany hit as I was dusting the living room. For the majority of my adult years, I yearned for solid ground in which I could sink my roots. I had found it on the work front, but now I needed to find it personally as well.

Even if I had rebuffed him, James showed no signs of leaving. Maybe my earlier thoughts were simply deflection. Could he be the stable force I yearned for?

I made a decision to not call until nighttime, thinking it would give ample time for space and to lick his wounds.

My apartment was scrubbed, dusted, and polished to gleaming by early afternoon. An at home spa day was just the reward. I ran the tub and filled it with violet bubble bath, climbing out of the dusty, dirty pajamas I was wearing, tossing them in the hamper.

The phone rang as I dried off. Fumbling to keep my towel up, and also with the keypad buttons due to my freshly washed hands; I struggled a bit to answer, but managed.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Oi querida!" I'd recognize that Portuguese accent anywhere.

"Oi mãe!" I replied, a smile in my voice. "God, it's so good to hear from you. How are things at home?"

"Eh… they're good. Same old same old." Mom said. "How about you? How's the new job?"

"The job is wonderful. I'm really happy. You've caught me on my day off, actually." I said.

"Good!" she said. "They treating you well?"

"Yes, Ma." I said. "Very. I make forty dollars an hour."

She whistled. "Damn! You're really living now!" she added, laughing.

"Finally." I said, laughing too.

"So…" she said. "Anybody catch your eye yet?"

"Actually, yeah." I said, smiling broadly.

"Oooh! That's my girl!" she exclaimed. "Who is he?"

I cleared my throat. "My boss."

"Get out!" she said, still excited.

"Nope, I'm serious. His name is James Wilson." I said.

"What's he like?" she asked.

"Tall, about 6'1", brown hair, brown eyes, a smile that lights up a room and cheekbones that could cut diamonds, sort of soft spoken." I said. "He's a good bit older than me, too…"

"Oh that's no big deal!" she said." As long as he treats you right."

"He does. Like a princess, really." I admitted.

"Excellent." She said. "And he sounds really good looking, too."

"He is." I said, blushing.

"How long have you been seeing him?" she asked.

"Almost a month and a half now." I said.

"That's terrific!" she said. "You'll bring him home to meet me soon, right?"

"We'll see." I said. "If we get serious enough I will."

"You've been wary with your heart for too long." Mom said with a sigh. "Not every guy is out to hurt you."

My tone changed to a quieter one. "I know…I just don't want to get led down the primrose path again, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, querida. I do. That last boy…the Army deserter…" she said, ending the word almost scornfully. "I was so glad when you saw him for who he was."

"Uh huh." I said, disdainfully too. "I was just thankful I didn't get too close. Speaking of…"

"This James… he loves you. Doesn't he?" It was as if she took the words from my mouth.

"…Yeah." I sighed. "Well, to be honest he said he was 'falling for me'."

"Same thing." Mom said. "How did you respond?"

"I said that though I like him and care for him, I don't feel the same way, not yet. He was…justifiably hurt." I said. "I feel terrible about it, really. I haven't been able to stop thinking of him all day, what this means for the relationship." I said, holding the phone to my ear as I slid into my bathrobe.

"Then on some level you must love him, if he's affecting you that deeply." She said.

"Ma…no way… I don't…" I protested, my walls from before going up again.

"I can hear it in your voice." She said. "You love him. And that's okay. Don't be afraid of it."

"It's too soon, though. I can't be." I argued.

"The heart wants who it wants, when it wants. It's not something you can control, fofinha." She said.

I thought about it for a few moments. What she said made perfect sense. Why are mothers always right about these things?

"You're right." I finally said.

"Now it's up to you to tell him, when you're ready to." She said.

I agreed, and all through the rest of our conversation, I was half listening to the dialogue in my head, figuring out a way to say what I felt.

In the midst of making lunch, a grilled chicken salad with bleu cheese crumbles, my phone's text notification went off. It was from James. I shook my head, a smirk playing on my lips. He was nothing if not persistent.

_I know you said you'd call me. I'm sorry for not waiting. I just…I miss you._

_It's all right. _I typed back. _I'll call you tonight. It'll be nice to hear your voice. In the meantime, I want to apologize for last night. I was rather abrupt. _

_You have nothing to be sorry for, honey. _He responded. _Looking forward to tonight. _

I sent back a 'Me too' before eating my salad. He really did care. He went out of his way for me more than once. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. And yeah, I loved him for it, and so much more. I loved the way he smiled, especially that smile that was meant for moments when we were alone. I loved his voice, both when he spoke and sang, how his face scrunched up when he laughed, how caring and diligent he was with his patients, I loved the way he rolled up his sleeves before tucking into a large pile of paperwork, his chivalrous manner, the little frown that crossed his features when he was deep in thought…

Given my little performance the previous night, I was worried that if I told him right off, he'd think I was giving him mixed signals. The moment in which I told him had to be perfect.

All of a sudden, the heavens opened up. A heavy, sodding winter rain poured and sloshed against the windows. The apartment became very dark. I lit candles for some light and to add to the day's theme of relaxation, also putting the kettle on to boil.

Carrying a large purple mug full of vanilla almond tea, I walked to my bookshelf, picking up a biography about Rita Hayworth that an Internet friend had suggested, and snuggled up on my bed.

When I looked up from the book, the rain had stopped, my mug was empty, and the moon hung low in the sky.

I rolled over, grabbing my phone from the night table, pulling James' number up. It rang a time and a half before he picked up.

"Hi, sweetheart." He answered.

"Hey darlin'." I said, returning the cutesy volley.

"How was your day off?" he asked.

"It was good. I spent it cleaning, and then relaxing. I was just finishing reading when I called." I said. "How was your day?"

"That sounds great! Uh…mine was good. I went in for a little while…one of the fellows needed some help with charting." He said. "Then I came home…ate some more of that fantastic macaroni and watched an Ingrid Bergman film that happened to be playing on the RetroPlex channel."

"Nice!" I said. "Listen…about last night…"

"Kate…we've been over this. You don't have to be sorry for anything. I'm not holding a gun to your head saying you have to fall for me…" he said.

"I know, but I could have handled it better. That's all." I admitted.

He let out a small sigh. "You were scared, that's understandable. Maybe you still are… I don't know."

"I was scared, no question. Now, I'm starting to not be so much." I said.

"Good." He said. "I don't want to lose you."

I bit my lip and blushed. "I don't want to lose you either. I'm enjoying this…us…"

"I am too." I could hear the smile in his voice.

A moment of silence passed between us, when he spoke again.

"I wanted to tell you…the board meeting is Monday. The one that I want you to talk about teamwork." He said.

"Oh yeah…that…" My tone was decidedly sheepish.

"You'll be fine." He assured me. "If the board will listen to anyone it'll be you."

"Even though I'm brand new in their eyes?" I asked.

"Even though you're brand new in their eyes." He repeated. "You've got a charisma about you…one that belies your newness. And… you've got Marie's rescue and marked improvement as a prime example of being calm under pressure."

"You do have a point…" I said. "Should I dress up for this or will my work clothes be sufficient?"

"I'd dress up…" He advised. "I know you'll pull together a hell of an outfit."

"Thanks." I said in a giggle.

"Can I be totally honest?" he asked after a beat.

"I thought your name was James… but if you wanna play a role…" I teased.

"Very amusing." He said in a chortle. "But in all seriousness…I…I couldn't stop thinking about you today. Wondering how you were. Kate…I met you and I felt…feel funny…good..."

I blushed again. "Aww, you're sweet."

"I mean it." He said.

"I know you do, James. And I couldn't stop thinking about you either. I feel the same way, good, I mean." I replied. It wasn't a total admission of my feelings, but it was as close as I was going to get.

He let out a happy chuckle. "That is wonderful to hear…"

"Yeah." I said, smiling widely, relieved that he didn't feel like I was sending conflicting messages. "You've also built yourself quite the fan club. Christine and my mom want to meet you."

"Oh really?" he asked. "I look forward to it when the time comes…"

"Definitely." I said, sounding a little tired. He noticed.

"Well honey, I'm gonna let you go… let you get some rest. If you have any questions tomorrow about the meeting… just give me a call." He said.

"Okay. I'll talk to you soon." I said, feeling lighter than I had for the majority of the day.

"Yep. Good night…sweet dreams." He said in his usual placid way.

"You too. Good night." I said. We both hung up at the same time.

I nestled deep into my blankets, a tingling sensation rushing through my body. A change had taken hold within me. Instead of being shy and careful, I was ready to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance, so to speak, in both life and romance.


	12. Chapter 12 - Tug of War

_Chapter 12: Tug of War_

Sunday afternoon consisted of combing my wardrobe for just the right outfit. I wanted to come across as skilled, composed, but true to myself. A mulberry plaid suit with hints of black and reddish brown was just the ticket. The jacket had slight princess seamed shoulders, and the bottom was a trim, but not tight pencil skirt.

An ecru silk blouse with a tie neck went underneath, with fully fashioned flesh toned stockings, and cognac sling-back heels. My accessories were simple: small, round black Lucite stud earrings, and a vintage Lucite heart-shaped brooch on to go on the left lapel. The heart was mother of pearl toned with a black cabochon in the middle, outlined in gold plate.

That night, I brainstormed teamwork ideas to present, making sure I went to bed at a more than reasonable hour.

I leapt out of bed the next day with anticipation coursing through every pore. I toned down my usual makeup – doing only a small wing on the eyeliner and a lighter shade of red lipstick. Barely needing the caffeine from my morning coffee, I styled my hair into a French pleat, and packed normal work clothes into my messenger bag along with the meeting notes.

Having about an hour to kill before it was time to head out; I relaxed in the living room watching a rerun of "I Love Lucy", pausing to review my notes on commercial breaks. I considered calling James and asking him to pick me up – as now with how I felt I could care less what House or anyone else thought of us. However, I decided against it as I wanted to surprise him with my ensemble.

As I walked past the nurses' station on the fourth floor, I heard a couple of them talking amongst themselves.

"Where's she going dressed like that?" one asked.

"Don't know, but something is definitely weird." replied another.

"And do you see the way Dr. Wilson looks at her?" a third one asked.

"You don't think they're…?" construed the first.

I shook my head and didn't stick around for the answer, telling myself they were just jealous and to ignore it.

When I arrived at the office I saw that the door was closed. I stood on tiptoe and peeked through the glass, knocking gently to get his attention.

He beckoned as a signal to enter, and I did, setting my things down and shutting the door behind me.

"Good morning..." I said happily.

"Morning." He replied, smiling. "I was just updating a patient file and…" he stopped speaking once he looked up at me, letting out a heretofore uncharacteristic small, low whistle.

"Kate…you look…so…wow…" he babbled.

I felt my face grow hot. "_James_…"

"What?" he asked innocently.

"The whistle?" I pointed out. "You've not done that before."

"It just sort of came out…" he said, snapping himself back to reality. "So…are you ready for the meeting?"

"On it like a bonnet!" I said, pulling out my notebook to show him.

"These points are great!" he said, leafing through. "Especially the one about learning from one another and showing respect… too often around here people's toes get stepped on."

"Precisely. On that bent, another I wrote down is how we should as calmly as possible express dissenting opinions and reach a consensus. There's not time for squabbling when someone's life is on the line." I said. "You'll also find notes in there about how there needs to be more organization in the department – especially with reports."

He smiled, and then quickly glanced around to make sure the coast was clear. He leaned in and planted a kiss on my forehead. "I'm so proud of you." He said.

"Thanks. But let's see if that holds true after the meeting." I winked.

He laughed. "Let's get going then."

"Okay." I said confidently, and with that we walked down the hall to the conference room, where I saw men in suits and ladies attired similarly to myself. We settled in at one of the long tables as James pointed out people of note.

"That's Sanford Wells." He said, indicating a rather imposing looking African American gentleman. "He's the Chairman of the Board."

"Who Dr. Cuddy reports to." I stated.

"Yes, exactly." James replied. "He also maintains the contract with Atlantic Net, our main insurance provider."

I nodded, looking a little nervous.

"Don't worry too much about him." James whispered in my ear. "He's very approachable. In fact…he trusts Dr. Cuddy entirely on management decisions for the hospital; he doesn't really step in unless he has to."

I was pleasantly surprised by that fact. Usually the powers that be had their hands well plunged into the proverbial cookie jar.

After learning about Brenda Previn, the head nurse who I'd heard of but not yet worked with, and Lydia Grote, who handled finances, the meeting seemed ready to begin. I saw James rise from his chair and move toward the table at the front of the room.

"Where are you going?" I asked in a hurried whisper. He sat back down momentarily.

"I'm on the board too…remember?" He whispered back with a small grin. "How do you think I got you in here to speak in the first place?"

My eyes blew wide open. "That's nepotism and you know it!" I hissed as quietly as possible.

"Probably. But if it helps the hospital in the long run…it can't be all bad now, can it?" he asked. "Besides, I cleared it with both Mr. Wells and Dr. Cuddy. We're fine."

"Well, all right." I said. He gave me a reassuring smile before he went to take his place among the other board members.

Wells greeted everyone, and then spoke about the renewal of the contract with Medicare as well as Atlantic Net, and approved a Dr. Thomas' tenure.

"Now for the department of Oncology." Wells continued. "Dr. Wilson has appointed his nurse, Kathryn Medeiros, to speak in his stead. She is new to the hospital this year, and has already made great strides in patient care, especially in the case of Mrs. Marie LaCroix. We commend her dedication and look forward to her continued success. "

He scanned the room looking for me. "Miss Medeiros?"

I thumbed to the page I needed in my notes, at first hesitant to move.

James found my eyes in the sea of people. "Go on." He mouthed.

I rose to my feet, notebook in hand, and walked to the podium facing the crowd.

"Thank you, Mr. Wells." I began. "As all of you know, the field of Oncology is one of the most unique in that it allows physicians and nurses alike to form a close bond with their patients and their loved ones, given the long-term, intensive nature of their care. With such daunting news as a cancer diagnosis, we do our very best to make certain that the patients' darkest days get at least a little brightness, in addition to working toward the goal of remission. In cases where remission is not possible, we try to ease the patients and their families through their pain, with kindness and their dignity being of chief importance. That is in large part the reason why Dr. Wilson and I entered into Oncology, to bring that human approach to medicine."

I saw a few smiles in the audience, and I could almost feel James smiling at me too.

"Bearing those ideals in mind, it was surprising to me that on the night of January twentieth; the team assisting in the treatment of Mrs. Marie Lacroix were fighting with each other about the best method in which to solve her adverse reaction to Cytoxan, a reaction that threatened her life. Dr. Wilson and I took it upon ourselves to put Marie on a course of 5-FU, which, I am pleased to report, has her on the road to recovery."

The room broke into applause. I continued as it died down.

"A chorus of voices raised in unison can move mountains, where as voices raised in dissent only breeds error and controversy. I want to remind the teams and staff that it is in the best interests of the patients we provide for each day that we are able to reach consensuses and broach differences of opinion with civil debate – and work together to find solutions.

Mutual respect must be harbored – especially when there's not much time for discussion. The idea is to learn from each other, grow, and make Princeton-Plainsboro one of the best hospitals running – not so much financially, but in the quality of care. Trust goes hand in hand with respect, and we want patients and their families to trust us as we trust ourselves.

Trust is founded on complete communication, as I have briefed with you just now, and also organization, especially in the data we keep. Organization of paperwork is another issue I have personally encountered, especially with pathology reports. Too often they come to us not alphabetized or with pages in the wrong order, only creating extra work and a possible delay in care. Thus, I am proposing a system for filing reports that is not only alphabetized according to patient last name, as it should be, but also color coded based on the type of cancer that the tissue samples contain. For example, red would be used for cancers of the blood, pink for breast cancer, green for pancreatic cancer, and so on. This system used in Pathology will be in conjunction with the same system that Dr. Wilson and I use in the office.

In closing, I would like to affirm that taking these aforementioned measures will only strengthen us as a team, and presenting a unified front will overall make us a better institution. I thank you for taking the time to listen to these remarks this morning, and I am truly grateful for being given the opportunity to share them with you."

The room burst into applause again, and I felt my cheeks turn a little pink as I moved to sit down. I was met with faces of awe from the entire board.

"Thank you, Miss Medeiros." Wells said. "Your proposal is sound and I vote to implement it as early as the beginning of next week. As for the talk of teamwork – I will confer with Dr. Cuddy to schedule a team building conference which all fellows and staff will be required to attend." He turned to face the others, Dr. Cuddy, other department heads among them.

"Is the board in agreement?" Wells asked.

All raised their hands.

"Excellent." Wells said. "Now on to financial briefing." He called Lydia's name and she rose to the podium.

"Things are holding relatively well despite the tough economic front." She said. "In these trying times people want to be wise with their money. However, the latest crop of benefactors has not been enough to proceed with the expansion of the Cuyler Wing and to update the cardiac imaging machinery. This expansion is sorely needed in order to meet accreditation. We need fifty thousand dollars to make it work. My team and I have been brainstorming ideas for a type of fundraiser – but are coming up dry. There are only so many dinners that can be hosted on the hospital's dime – and even then we end up a thousand dollars short of our goal. I'd like to open the floor to you all for some fresh ideas."

A great deal of indiscernible chatter followed, some of it in a worried tone. There was a call for a bake sale somewhere in the din, but that was immediately shot down as impractical. A few more items were called out – a raffle was among them – but nothing really stuck or excited anyone. That's when it hit me.

"I have an idea." I said, my voice louder than I thought.

"Go ahead, Miss Medeiros." Lydia said.

I got to my feet so I could be better heard. "I'm guessing most of you went to college and subsequent medical school training in the eighties, right?" I asked, and there were some murmurs of agreement. "Why don't we have an eighties themed ball at the Hyatt Regency New Brunswick? If you need further financial backing, my dear friend is a nurse at Acorn Glen. She could talk to her superiors and they'd help us for certain."

"You're sure of this?" Lydia asked.

"Yes." I said. "I can talk to her this evening and let you know how next to proceed."

"It's settled then." Lydia said. "A wonderful idea - and I think the nostalgia value will generate a lot of interest in the community."

Wells approved it, and the meeting drew to a close, with people whispering and staring at me in the halls. But now, it was for an entirely new reason.

As Dr. Cuddy congratulated me along with James, House came up beside us.

"So you think the ghosts of Members Only jackets and synthesizers are going to work?" he asked me.

"Yeah." I replied confidently. "Nostalgia draws interest, just like Lydia said. It will be a success. I have faith."

"You're grooming quite a protégé, Wilson." He said to James. "Or is it a…"

"_House_." James interrupted in a dangerous tone. Dr. Cuddy shot House a contemptuous side eye.

He limped away, the air still tense.

"What did House mean?" I asked James later in private. "Or is it a what?"

"Don't worry about it." He said.

I raised my eyebrow.

"Really…it's nothing." James said. "You were fantastic today."

"Thanks." I said, noting the quick subject change. "I was really nervous."

"I know…but it never showed." James said. "I can already tell those highest up are starting to respect you."

"And those below are talking." I countered.

"Who?" he asked.

"The other nurses. I heard them gossiping." I said. "Not that I'm afraid, it's just annoying."

"Let them talk…" he said in an attempt to reassure me that all was well. "They bore easily. _General Hospital_ must not be thrilling them enough."

I giggled. "Isn't the irony delicious in that they're not excited by dramatizations of their own lives? Hell, my own life?"

"It is." He said, laughing too. "Also, if you need help planning the fundraiser… please let me know."

"I will." I said, leaving to get changed for my shift.

* * *

Eager to get the ball rolling for the fundraiser, I called Christine the minute I got home.

"I have a favor to ask of you." I told her.

"Shoot." She said.

I took a breath before speaking. "The hospital is in need of money to expand the Cuyler Wing and update the cardiac imaging machinery. Lydia, who's in charge of finances, said at the meeting this morning that we need fifty thousand in order to proceed. They thought of doing some sort of dinner – but that's the type of thing that's been done and done again."

"Sure." Christine said, and then paused. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. How did you get into a board meeting?"

I chuckled. "How do you think?"

"Uh huh." She said, laughing too. "Anyway, what's the favor?"

"Anyway, at the meeting, I suggested that we hold a ball – an eighties themed ball – at the Hyatt in New Brunswick. I was wondering if you could ask your superiors at the nursing home for additional financial backing. I mean yes, the hospital has its own group of benefactors, but I really think we're gonna need all the help we can get on this one."

"I'll see what I can do." Christine said.

"Thank you." I said, relieved.

"No problem." She said. "So you're really getting some recognition now, huh?"

I was nodding and smiling, even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah, I am. James has helped me quite a bit, but I am making my own way too."

"Good." She said. "When am I gonna meet this guy, anyway? I mean I trust what you've told me but other than that he's a big fat question mark."

_She has no idea how apropos that last remark was… _I thought, remembering what had happened post meeting. James was burying something about his past, and it bothered me that he wasn't telling. I decided to gloss over that subject with Christine for the present time, as I didn't want to fuel any more doubt.

I craned my neck to look at the calendar, holding the phone to my ear with one hand. "Umm…let's see…" I mused. "How does the thirteenth of February sound? I ask because that's your day off."

"Mmm… I'm working that day actually." Christine said. "I was asked to switch with someone. How about the sixth?"

The date happened to be that coming Friday. "That works. I'm off the next day and I'm sure James could work something out…"

"Great!" she said. "I'll be looking to hear more details later in the week."

We said our goodbyes, and I settled into bed. Despite my fatigue, I slept terribly that night – my feelings for James mixed with the thing that he was hiding doing battle in my head.


	13. Chapter 13 - Work And Play

_Chapter 13: Work and Play_

The week of February sixth was a great one. The president of Acorn Glen approved Christine's request for additional funding for the ball, and once I told Lydia the terrific news, she was enthusiastic to start planning.

"First order of business will be ticketing prices and information." She said. "Then we'll need to talk to the hotel staff, a caterer, and a DJ…"

I nodded. "I will confer with my friend Christine more than likely this evening, and Dr. Wilson wants to help out too. I will keep you abreast of everything and run each idea by you before it's solidified."

" Fantastic!" she said, smiling. "The more the merrier."

The thoughts that haunted me for a few nights prior had been a persistent nag in the back of my mind. What on earth did House mean? I guess James was grooming me to be a protégé of sorts, but clearly House was jiving at something clearly not for anyone's ears, at least not in civilized conversation, I'd assume. Being as goal-minded as I was, I decided not to let the thoughts pester me further, I had work to do!

I left Lydia's office and made my way back to the one I shared with James with a bounce in my step.

"Someone's happy…" he said, smiling upon my entering. "Meeting went well, I take it?"

"It did indeed." I said jovially, closing the door and setting a fresh crop of documentation on the desk. "Everything's been set in motion with Lydia and Christine to begin planning."

"Excellent." He said, his smile widening and matching the one that spread on my own features.

I nodded. "I just have to fill Christine in on the very latest from today. Speaking of, she's really keen to meet you – as I've mentioned before."

"Oh really?" he chuckled.

"Yes, really." I said, putting a hand on my hip in mock chiding. "She's my best friend, and we have been together for nearly two months now…"

"You're right…no need to explain. When will this take place?" he asked.

"Tomorrow night at my house? We can have a bull session for ball plans – and I'll provide wine and snacks." I suggested. "You don't mind coming all the way to Plainsboro after a long work week do you?"

He chuckled. "It's not Guam, sweetheart! I'd be delighted to come over and meet… Christine was it?"

"Yes." I confirmed.

"This is going to be so much fun!" he said, clearly enthused.

"I hope so, but I also hope to get a good bit of work done. I've decided the ball's going to be March eighth, so that doesn't leave much time." I pointed out.

He shook his head and giggled at my nose to the grindstone approach. "Of course… but all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

I smiled and laughed harder. "That's rich coming from you, Mr. Workaholic!" I teased.

"You love me for it." He blurted, meaning the words in jest. Slight panic registered in his eyes when he heard me cough a little at the statement, cheeks turning pink.

"Sorry…" He murmured, quick to soothe the tension.

"It's okay." I replied. "All in good time."

"All in good time." He echoed with a small sigh.

* * *

"So how goes the ball stuff?" Christine asked that evening. Some time ago, she asked me to teach her how to do vintage style makeup. I decided to come over to her loft, and make good on that request.

"It just started today. I met with Lydia and she's really eager to set things in motion." I said, finishing applying an eye shadow primer from her lash line to her brow bone, and opening a palette of natural eye shadow shades.

"Cool!" she said. "When are you thinking of having it?"

"The eighth of March." I said. "So…just over a month away."

"You sure that's a big enough window to plan?" she asked. "My boss, Joe, will want to know everything."

"Yes I'm sure, and Lydia will too." I replied.

She nodded. "Is James going to be involved?"

"Of course." I said, blushing a bit.

"Does Dr. Cuddy know you guys are a thing? From what I understand you two are pretty much inseparable at work." She said.

"We're not _inseparable_." I countered. "And for right now, Dr. Cuddy sees a strictly professional relationship. It'll more than likely come up at the ball - we'll tell her then – as it'll be pretty much obvious to everyone. He is more than likely going as my date after all."

She giggled. "Aw, it's like prom!"

"Knock it off…" I said, thumping her on the shoulder jokingly.

"I'm still meeting him tomorrow, right?" she asked as I applied her eyeliner.

"Yep!" I said. "At my place. I figured we could discuss ideas and drink wine and have something to nosh on."

"I can hardly wait!" she bounced – the tip of the eyeliner pen moving sharply.

"Hold still!" I said. "Or you'll look like a glamorous raccoon!"

She apologized, laughing. "I'm just so thrilled about all this!"

"Me too." I said. "You know, it really is wild how life can take a turn so quickly. I've been on the job almost as long as I've been with James. I'm still trying to process everything."

"No kidding." She agreed. "Did you ever think you'd fall in love?"

"Chris…" I began, my first instinct to shut the subject down, as I was still working up the nerve to tell James the truth.

"Oh please." She said. "You told me your mom thinks you love him too – after the whole "I'm falling for you" debacle. And she can see through anything a hundred feet away on a foggy day."

I sighed. "I know. I love him, Chris. I do."

She squealed as I finished applying lipstick. "Are you gonna tell him?"

"Yeah, I just haven't gotten as far as when or how yet." I said.

She took a tissue from my hand and blotted her lips, speaking as she threw it away. "You'll know when the time is right."

I nodded. "But there's a new issue I'm having difficulty with, despite how I feel."

"Oh god…what did House do _now_?" she groaned. "I feel like we're going around in circles with all the crap he's pulled."

"I know. And, he didn't do anything, per se." I said. "But after the board meeting he said to James: "You're grooming quite a protégé, or is it a…" and before he could finish, James cut him off."

"That's very strange." She pointed out. "What the hell is that supposed to be about?"

"No idea." I said. "It's something that James doesn't want to be public knowledge, or if it is already he doesn't want me to know. When I asked about it, he told me not to worry and changed the subject."

"Hmm…" she mused. "And you still love him despite House's insinuation bothering you?"

"Yeah." I said. "I know I've got myself in quite a pickle. It's why I'm on the fence about telling him how I feel. I don't want to end up eating my words, you know?"

"I gotcha." She said. "I still think you should tell him about your feelings, but see if anything further comes up about whatever this is that he's keeping quiet. Better one of you is totally honest."

I looked down at the floor. "At risk of getting hurt?"

"Only you can know if it's worth the risk or not." She said.

I sighed. "The more I think about it, the more I think it is. I care about him so much. And nine times out of ten I'm happy when we're together."

"Then I think you have your answer, don't you?" she asked.

She was right, I did.

* * *

Sporting a red gingham apron over a midnight blue 1940s day dress, I sampled my mixture of diced tomatoes, basil, and garlic, deciding it needed just a pinch more garlic. A classic bruschetta was the perfect complement for our get together. I dipped just the edge of a teaspoon into the jar of minced garlic, and added it to the bowl – tasting it again. Now it was right.

I was a little nervous about Christine and James meeting each other. As both were so important to me it was imperative that they hit it off. Christine was the closest thing to a sister that I'd known. She had to knock some sense into my head over a few guys I went out with – especially the last one. Whenever she had a hunch, she always followed it no matter what. She was the one who told me about my ex's criminal record.

I remembered the phone call that night. "So just how much has he told you about his past?" she asked me, and I was quick to recite all of the things he'd told me, like a trained bird – about getting out of the Army on medical leave, a toddler-aged son with whose mother he had a terrible relationship because she had wronged him, how he had sustained injuries defending himself in some bar fight…

"As you know, a lot of his story just wasn't making sense to me. And I punched in his name on Google..." She began, and I immediately jumped to his defense, saying the Internet wasn't all that reliable; there could be hearsay from his enemies – any excuse I could drum up, really.

"Kate, listen to me. This is for your own good. I can print it out myself and show it to you if you don't believe me." She said. I let her continue.

"He's a fugitive from the law. He didn't get out of the Army on medical leave. He deserted during war time. He was here when he was supposed to be in the Middle East."

Naturally, I was shocked, and angry that I had been taken for a fool. Then things took a decidedly darker turn.

"Even worse… you know that bar fight he told you about?" she asked, and I uttered a shaky affirmative reply. "What he didn't tell you was that he killed the guy. Katie…"

She only called me Katie when she was doing one of three things: being affectionate, really trying to hammer a point home or console me, and was the only person allowed to call me that, other than my mother.

Only strangled, guttural sounds made it past my lips at that news. The anger was replaced now with palpable fear.

"You gotta get the hell away from him before he…" she said, not able to finish the thought that was on both our minds.

"I'm sorry." I finally managed to say, through tears that poured from my eyes.

"For what, honey?" she asked.

"For not listening to you, for not listening to my mom. You were both right! And it makes me so unbelievably angry that I allowed myself to be reeled in by that piece of trash." I squeaked.

"That's what boys like him do. They start out sweet at first, and then the nasty underbelly comes out if they're actually terrible at hiding it. Like he is. I'll come over tomorrow and we'll switch all your passwords – Facebook, e-mail, everything, and block his access to all of that. If push comes to shove we'll have your cell phone number changed as well." She said, and the next day, he was gone from my life.

It was from that chain of events that the slight apprehension she and I felt about James had stemmed. I didn't think he had anything as heinous as desertion or murder to hide, or a rap sheet of any kind, and Christine didn't think so either. But the dribs and drabs that did come forth about James' past and not directly from the source were cause for consideration.

As with any relationship, one is always going to have parties come forward with tales and gossip, but it is what comes out as the truth, and how it comes to light that is really telling. I had worked through any concern I had about House's allusions by reassuring myself that James merely didn't want to discuss such private matters in the workplace, and would reveal them as the relationship progressed.

Any comparison between my ex and James just didn't exist. Though things had gotten off to a whiz-bang start between us, I saw no sign of anything incriminating, and especially in the earliest stages, believe me I looked. Everything he did was genuine, I had no reason to mistrust him – other than letting past experience force me away from something wonderful – and I wasn't about to let that happen.

The oven's buzzer brought me back into the present. I sliced a small loaf of Italian bread into thin slices and rubbed each one with olive oil, following it with a dollop of the tomato mixture and a dusting of Parmesan cheese, sliding the parchment paper lined cookie sheet onto the rack.

I put a bottle of white zinfandel on to chill and fetched one of merlot from the dry sink – wiping up any mess in the kitchen from food prep. I dressed the dining room table with a cheery red vinyl tablecloth, putting an ivory candle in the center with a serving tray nearby for the bruschetta, and set out the bottle of merlot with three wine glasses.

As I was hanging up my apron, the door buzzed and my phone rang simultaneously. I ran to answer the door first – letting the call go to voicemail.

James greeted me, wearing a camel hair coat and a gray driving cap. As he pulled back from kissing my cheek, my eyes traveled to a platter of something in his hands.

"Latkes." He said, answering my unspoken question. "My mother's recipe." He added, following me up the stairs.

"Your mother made them or…?" I asked.

"No, I did." He blushed. "I always liked them as a kid and I thought they'd be nice for tonight."

"Well, thank you." I said, smiling and ushering him inside. "I've got bruschetta in the oven that I've made."

"Ah, great!" He said. "Another Food Network find?"

"No," I laughed. "This one's all my own."

After I helped him arrange the platter of latkes, I excused myself to tend to my phone. Christine had left a message saying she was in a traffic backup due to an accident on Route 1 and would arrive as soon as she could.

"Christine's stuck in traffic." I told James as I re-entered the dining room. "There was an accident on Route 1."

"That's too bad…" he said, having hung up his coat and hat. "That accident must have just happened. The roads were clear when I was driving."

"Guess so." I replied, going over to the fridge. "The zinfandel is not quite cold. I can offer you some merlot, though."

"I can wait on the wine until Christine gets here." He said. "I'll take some water, though… if that's all right?"

"More than all right, sweetheart." I said, pouring him some.

He thanked me, adding "It smells incredible in here."

I smiled. "I'm glad. The bruschetta's got a bit to cook yet. Why don't we sit down?"

He walked with me into the living room, making himself at home in a brown leather easy chair. The green v-neck sweater he was wearing only intensified the rich cocoa of his eyes.

"Shall I put a record on?" I asked. "It'll be much better than listening to silence."

"Uh, sure." He agreed, my question breaking his staring pattern.

"Any requests?" I winked.

"Your house…your pick." He smiled.

I set Court and Spark on the player and danced around the room, and then sort of danced toward him, settling on his lap, swaying to the beat and letting the melody overtake me.

_Help me I think I'm falling in love with you…_

_Are you gonna let me go there by myself? It's such a lonely thing to do…_

It was then I realized the words were coming out of my mouth. He looked straight into my eyes, blinking once, mouth slack.

"Kate…your voice…that was gorgeous." He managed to say when the next track came on.

My breathing sped up, my heart hammered in my ears. "Oh! The song…I…thank you. It's one of my favorites."

He sensed my embarrassment, and decided not to talk of that moment any further, instead setting his drink down and pulling me in for a gentle, calming kiss.

"Mmm…" he murmured. "That's the second time you've sung something in front of me, too."

"Must mean I'm very comfortable around you then. I don't sing in front of very many people, inadvertently or otherwise." I quipped.

"I'm honored." He said softly, running a hand through my curls. "Also…in turning things to the topic of the evening…will you go to the ball with me?"

I smiled, giggling. "Is there any other answer to that question than yes, silly?"

He smiled and kissed me again, letting it linger until Christine's voice could be heard.

"Hello?" she called. "Honey, I'm hooome!"

Before we could answer she rounded the corner. "Evenin', lovebirds." She teased.

"Oh jeez!" I said, leaping up. "Christine, hi! Sorry! So glad you're here. Pardon my poor hostess skills…"

"It's fine, it's fine." She laughed. "You forgot your bruschetta too. I pulled it out of the oven for ya."

"Thanks." I blushed. "Chris, this is James." I said, moving aside so they could shake hands.

"Nice to meet you." He said, giving her right hand a firm squeeze.

"You too. You're even more handsome in person." She said, to which I coughed and turned even redder.

"Thank you." He said, grinning slightly. "No shame, eh?" he added in jest.

"It's part of my charm." Christine quipped. "I also save her butt from time to time." She added, indicating me.

"So I see." He laughed.

"Can I get either of you a glass of wine?" I asked as I moved our gathering to the dining room. "There's Beringer White Zinfandel and Barefoot Merlot."

"I'll have some merlot." Christine replied.

"Zinfandel for me, please." James said.

"Coming right up." I said, filling their glasses and handing them over, pouring a glass of zinfandel for myself.

I rearranged the trays of the food so we could sit down as a sort of round table.

"Shall we call this meeting to order?" James asked.

"We shall." I said, taking a sip of wine. "As you both know… our little time capsule of sorts launches the evening of March eighth, a Saturday."

"I think that's pushing it a bit, but it can be done." Christine said. "Let's map out what we need."

I ticked off each item on my fingers as I spoke. "We need to secure the hotel ballroom, which I will do tomorrow. Then get the word out to the benefactors. And hire a DJ… a caterer…"

"But before all that, we need to discuss ticketing…" James pointed out. "What do you think is a fair price to charge? Most functions of this type that I've been to go for… three to five-hundred a ticket easily."

Christine's jaw dropped.

"I'd say that's pretty standard." I said, turning to Christine. "Remember, these benefactors are extremely well to do. It's their dime that's going to help us in the long run. And, we have to raise fifty thousand dollars. You're not gonna do that by low balling the ticket price."

"Right." She agreed. "How many tickets would we need to sell?"

James pulled out his phone and began to calculate the figures. "At five-hundred dollars a ticket…we'd need to sell one-hundred to get to fifty-thousand dollars. At three-hundred dollars, the amount we'd need to sell wouldn't match our goal. We'd come up…two to three dollars short. I'm pretty sure the Hyatt ballroom doesn't hold much more than one-hundred people, anyway."

"I think you're right." Christine said. "But Kate will check that tomorrow, of course." I nodded.

"The theme is eighties of course." I said. "But what I think would be really neat is if guests went the whole hog and dressed the part too."

"That's brilliant!" Christine said, finishing a bite of latke. "What do you think, James?"

"I think that's a fantastic idea… and will definitely add to the nostalgia value." He added. "The benefactors will eat that up for sure."

"Great! That's settled." I said. "Before we get much further, how much did your boss approve for their part in the budget, Chris?"

"Joe's given four grand to play with." She said.

"Another two can come from the hospital." James said. "That puts us up to six. Figure at least fifty dollars to print the tickets, one thousand to secure the ballroom, probably another thousand fifty to round out the deposit, two thousand for the food, and two thousand for the music…that puts us a hundred dollars over budget right now."

"We can kick in a hundred bucks." Christine said. "I plan on donating to our cause, don't you guys?"

"Of course." We said in unison.

"So our budget is six thousand, one hundred." She declared.

"Thank goodness for your work, Christine. Please tell Joe thank you from us." I said.

"Will do!" she said.

James noticed my plate was empty, and got a piece of bruschetta and a latke for me. I smiled, thanking him.

"You two are ridiculously cute together, you know that?" Christine said, refilling her wine glass.

"Thanks, Chris. I'm so glad you both have seemed to warm to each other." I said.

"I am too. You picked a good one!" she said, to which he blushed. A huge smile ran away from my face.

The night carried on with pleasant conversation and more laughter. James prepared to leave around eleven because as per usual on his day off, he wanted to come in to help the fellows with charting.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow." He said quietly, giving me a quick peck on the lips before heading home.

I nodded, both of us saying goodnight.

"He's crazy about you, you know." Christine said as I walked back into the dining room. "I could see it in his eyes all while we were talking. I really like him, Kate."

"I'm relieved. He seems to like you too, I can tell." I said, cheeks turning pink from the first part of her sentence.

She smiled, and then yawned. "Good."

"Tired?" I asked.

"Yeah." She admitted, yawning again.

"You can crash here for the night, if you want. I don't want you nodding off at the wheel." I suggested.

"You wouldn't mind?" she asked.

"Not at all. Besides, I can scramble some eggs and that along with the latkes and bruschetta will make a great breakfast." I said, starting to clean up.

"Sounds good." She said, coming over to help me.

I gave her some pajamas and changed into my own once the kitchen and dining room were tidied. I dragged the air mattress out of my closet and while it inflated on my bedroom floor, I made tea.

"You've gotta tell him, Kate. It looks like it just wants to burst off the tips of your tongues." She said as we settled in.

"I know…I know." I said, grinning like a schoolgirl. "He's unlike anyone I've ever met. I'm not going to worry anymore about what this one says or what that one says for right now. It's too vexing and not worth it. If any issues come up, I have faith we'll resolve them. My feelings are too strong to worry about anything else."

Christine started to hum "Here comes the bride…" and I playfully tossed a pillow at her. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves…" I said as we drifted off to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14: Throwing Caution To The Wind

_Chapter 14: Throwing Caution to the Wind_

I awoke bright and early to call the Hyatt and spoke to the front desk clerk, a charming young girl named Teresa.

"Saturday, March eighth?" She asked, confirming the date.

"That's correct." I replied.

"Let's see…" she began, and I could hear the clicking of computer keys. "I know you were interested in a ballroom space, Miss Medeiros. Did you know the hotel offers three different ones?"

"I didn't." I said, wondering which of the three would best suit our needs.

"We have the Salon, Garden State, and Brunswick." Teresa said. "The Salon and Brunswick are actually booked that day for a baby shower and anniversary party, respectively. How many will be attending this function?"

"One hundred." I said. "Will the Garden State ballroom be enough for everyone?"

"Oh absolutely!" she assured me. "The Garden State accommodates up to three-hundred people. It's able to be divided into sections if you need, and can be truncated down a bit if that'd be preferable, as well."

"Excellent!" I said. "What kind of a figure are we looking at to secure the room?"

"I believe its fifteen hundred, security deposit and all, but I'm not entirely certain. I can put you in contact with Jennifer Eodice, our events coordinator, and she'd be able to better quote that for you – plus answer any more in-depth questions you may have." She said.

"That'd be great." I said. "Thank you so much, Teresa. You've been most helpful!"

"You're welcome, Miss Medeiros. Have a great day!" she said.

I was transferred to Jennifer, who picked up on the second ring.

"Jennifer Eodice, events coordinator at the Hyatt Regency New Brunswick. How may I help you?" she said.

"Hi, Jennifer. My name is Kate Medeiros – and I'm in the process of securing a ballroom for a fundraiser on March eighth for Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital."

"Fantastic, Miss Medeiros! We know Princeton-Plainsboro very well. Which room were you looking into?"

"The Garden State, as the front desk told me the others were otherwise occupied." I said. "My main question right now is the exact figure to lock in the space for that date."

"It's fifteen hundred – usually with the security deposit included." Jennifer explained. "But being that the hospital has worked with us before – I can take off that security amount for you, which would bring the full deposit down to a thousand even."

I was delighted. "That is most appreciated, Jennifer. Thank you!"

"You're very welcome. How many are attending this fundraiser?" she asked.

"One hundred." I said. "I was informed that the room's capacity is three-hundred and the space can be modified as needed."

"It sure can!" she said. "What time were you looking to reserve?"

"Um…it'll start at seven in the evening, and go until midnight." I replied, thinking on my feet.

"Perfect." She said. "Do you have any other questions for me?"

"Just one – for the meal – do you offer on-site catering services or will we have to hire out for that?" I asked.

"We can cater the fundraiser for you, no problem. Our chefs and I can sit down with you and anyone else on your planning team to create a menu." She said.

"Fabulous!" I said. I began to bounce a bit around my living room, thrilled that planning had already run into so much good fortune.

"So to review," she began. "You're booking the Garden State ballroom for seven to midnight on the eighth of March for one hundred guests, with on-site catering."

"That's correct." I confirmed.

"Will you be having a DJ or band as well?" she asked.

"We are having a DJ. It's an eighties themed ball, actually." I said.

"That sounds like fun!" she said enthusiastically. "I'll make a note of that in our system along with the basics we've discussed."

"Great, Jennifer. Thank you." I said.

"You're welcome!" she said. "Just to cover bases, when will you have the fee in to us?"

I ran to the kitchen quickly and checked the calendar. "This Monday, the ninth."

"All right! I look forward to seeing you then, Miss Medeiros." She said.

We bid our goodbyes, and before I let myself get too swept away, I called Lydia to update her on the developments of the past several hours.

"That all sounds incredible, Kate! And what good luck you've had already!" she said.

"Tell me about it! I'm so grateful, and I'm sure Dr. Wilson and my friend Christine will be too when I tell them." I said. "Speaking of spreading the word – I was going to call Dr. Cuddy…"

"Oh don't worry about that." she interjected. "I can tell Lisa myself right now."

"Thanks, Lydia!" I said. "Is there anything else you need to know?"

"Not right now, just keep me up to date like you have been." She said. "I really have a feeling this will be a big hit."

"So do we." I affirmed.

"Keep up that enthusiasm!" she encouraged. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Will do, have a good day!" I said, hanging up.

Still riding the emotional high, I texted James:

_Good morning, my darling! Hate to trouble you so early. But, great news! The ballroom at the Hyatt has been booked – it's one with room to spare – and we got money off on the deposit. We just have to drop it off during business hours on Monday. And – the food can be handled right there! I'm so excited. Have a wonderful day; I'll talk to you tonight._

I put my phone back on the charger and went to fix breakfast. Just as I was starting to scramble the eggs, Christine padded out into the kitchen.

"Morning!" I called cheerfully.

"Hey, Miss Mary Sunshine." She croaked sleepily, smiling some. "What are you so jazzed about?"

"The ballroom is booked!" I said, giving the eggs a stir and checking the progress of the warming bruschetta and latkes in the oven. "It's gonna be in the one called Garden State, and has heaps of room for all our guests – and they offer on-site catering. But that's not the best part!"

She yawned, making some coffee. "What is the best part?"

"We got five hundred dollars knocked off the deposit to secure it." I said, jumping up and down a little.

Her eyes went wide. "No way! That's awesome!"

"Way!" I said. "It is. It's because they've worked with the hospital in the past – and Lydia and Dr. Cuddy have been updated on everything."

Christine smiled at this. "You're always on top of things. And uh, does loverboy know yet?"

I giggled at 'loverboy'. "Well, I texted him, but he hasn't responded yet."

"You've had a busy morning." She said, handing me a mug of coffee.

"I have!" I said, setting it on the counter as I plated the food. "I'm all buzzing too."

She laughed, shaking her head. "At seven-thirty in the morning."

"You know me." I chuckled, serving her and then sitting down with my own plate.

"So, where do we go from here?" Christine said.

"We just need to book the DJ, get the word out, and print up tickets." I said.

"Where were you thinking for tickets?" Christine asked after a bite of egg.

"For our needs, VistaPrint will give us the best price." I said. "I can do that in an afternoon on my laptop." I took a sip of coffee and nibbled on bruschetta.

"Cool! And for the DJ – I just thought of someone. My uncle Luke owns a DJ company – he's done high profile weddings and all that." Christine said. "He'll give us a fair rate for sure."

I beamed. "This is unbelievable! We've gotten this whole shindig pretty much planned in less than two days!"

"It was fate, man. I'm telling you." She said. "The job, your love life, the fundraiser…all this stuff is happening for a reason."

"You might be on to something there." I said.

"Enjoy it." She said, patting my shoulder. "You deserve it."

I got a touch misty eyed. "Thanks." I said, hugging her.

"Want to have some fun today?" she asked after we let go.

I raised my eyebrow. "How so?"

"We need something to wear, don't we?" she asked. "I know the eighties aren't really your bag, but I've been to a great little shop that sells vintage dresses from that time – and a bunch more."

"What's the name of it?" I asked, interested.

"Greene Street. It's right in Princeton." She said.

"Sounds promising!" I said. "Let's check it out."

Christine showered first, and wore the gray tunic dress, tights, and boots she had on the night before. I went in next, putting on a mint green fuzzy sweater with light blue jeans.

Just as I was done drying my hair, Christine tossed me my ringing phone. I glanced at the name quickly and answered.

"Morning, honey." I said into the receiver.

"Good morning." James said. "The news about the hotel was great to wake up to…"

My voice was bright. "Knew you'd be pleased. And – even better news. Christine's uncle is probably going to DJ for us – and I'll take care of the tickets on VistaPrint."

"You're amazing, both of you." He said. "What's your day looking like?"

I thanked him, a smile spreading on my face. "Christine and I are going outfit shopping for the ball."

"Very nice…" he said. "Listen, I have to go back to charting and check the resident request box…but I'll either call or text you tonight, okay?"

"Okay." I said softly.

"Have fun shopping… I'll be thinking of you." He said.

"You're too sweet, James Wilson." I said.

"Sweet on you…" He flirted. "Bye for now."

"Bye." I said, closing my phone after he ended the call.

"What'd he say?" Christine asked, making goofy cartoon eyes at me.

"He's happy about the hotel situation, told us to have fun, and that he'll be thinking about me." I said, blushing.

"God, can he _get_ any more adorable?" she asked, putting on her coat and getting her wristlet. "As I said last night, he's got it bad for you, girl."

"It's true…" I admitted, grabbing my purse and following her out the door.

* * *

Greene Street was a huge vintage clothing store on Nassau Street in Princeton. It was well lit and tidy, the clothing organized by decade. Christine and I found the section we needed, dancing to the Fleetwood Mac album being played through the speakers.

"Look at this!" Christine shrieked, holding a Christian Lacroix "pouf" dress that was pink and black.

"You're not seriously considering that." I laughed. "You'll look like a bath toy!"

"Nah, I just couldn't believe how outrageous it was." She said. "Besides, I'm only 5'2". I'd look like a citizen of Oz in that thing."

"We represent the Lollipop Guild…" I sang in my best Munchkin voice, to which we both erupted in laughter.

We looked through the racks more closely after we settled down, pulling out sequined dresses, peplum ones, off the shoulder tops and neon skirts, and a jumpsuit or two.

Christine studied herself in the three-way mirror, wearing a black sequined dress with bunches of different colored satiny fabric sewn on the bottom of the skirt.

"Meh, I'm not feeling it." She said.

I scrunched up my face. "Yeah, me either. The top looks great, but the bunchy pieces on the skirt are strange."

"Veto pile!" she announced, going back into the fitting room.

I tried on a red velour jumpsuit as she put on her next trial outfit.

We both walked to the mirror at the same time. She looked picture-perfect in a hot pink strapless, satin peplum-skirted number. It flattered her blonde hair and peaches and cream complexion flawlessly.

"Look at you!" I said in praise. "How's it feel?"

"Fine!" she replied. "And I love the color!"

"Pink's your favorite, I know." I said. "You look wonderful. That's gotta be your dress."

"Definitely!" she said, smiling. "How's the jumpsuit working for you?"

"It's flattering." I said, struggling to walk. "One problem though. The legs are about six inches too long."

"Oh dear, that's no good." She said.

I nodded. "Veto pile."

She helped me out of it and into a gold mutton sleeved cocktail dress, and went to change back into her street clothes.

"I'm all shoulders!" I said, laughing when she came out. "The color's pretty though."

"Hmm…" she mused, looking from me to the scant few clothing items yet left to try on. "Anything else here you wanna try?"

I glanced at the small stack of clothes. "Not really." I said, feeling a little bummed, and then a hint of shine caught my eye.

"Ooo! What's that?" I asked, pointing to what little bit I saw.

Christine pulled it out and held it up. "Oh! This is so you! Sparkly!"

I took it from her, retreating back into the fitting room. A few moments later, I came out smiling.

"I like this!" I said. "A lot."

"I can see why!" she said with a whistle, finishing zipping me. "You look drop dead gorgeous! James is gonna lose his mind when he sees you!"

My smile grew as I turned around in the mirror. The dress had long sleeves, a scoop front and back, and was figure hugging, covered in smooth rainbow sequins. The skirt hit about three inches above my knees.

"You're getting it, right?" she asked, clearly still in admiration.

"Absolutely! I look _good_." I said, chuckling.

I changed into my street clothes, and we put back everything we didn't take, bringing our selections to the register. Both dresses were on sale.

"We made out like bandits!" Christine said on our way to lunch.

"No kidding!" I agreed. "Question – do you have a date for the ball?"

"I was going to ask one of the orderlies at work – his name is Cody. He's a little shy and very cute. Do you know of the actor Chris Pine?" she asked.

"Yeah, why?" I asked, a little confused.

"Cody looks like he could be his twin brother." She said, biting her lip.

"Oh my! Do we have a crush?" I teased.

"A bit. But he's a really nice kid. We act like brother and sister right now." She said.

"Do it. Ask him." I encouraged.

"I will!" she said. "Also, I texted Joe just now with all the updates. He's busting his buttons."

I gave a thumbs-up. "Everybody's on the same page then."

"Yes ma'am!" she said, holding the door open to the coffee shop.

* * *

"I like the black and silver starburst pattern." I said, looking at layouts for tickets on my phone, showing Christine.

"Yeah, very eighties!" Christine agreed, finishing a spoonful of squash soup. "Kinda hard to input the info on your phone, though, no?"

"Oh yeah, on a touch screen it's next to impossible." I said, swallowing a sip of tea. "I was just looking."

She nodded. "Going back to James…"

"Yes?" I smirked.

"Have you thought about…well…you know…eventually?" she prefaced.

I turned pink. "Um…only as a passing notion. I'd like to, but I've never done it before. I was always waiting for the right guy, too."

"Don't you think he could be?" she asked.

"I do get that vibe very strongly, yes." I admitted. "We've not talked about intimacy yet, though."

"You probably should. It'll come up sooner or later." She said.

"Yeah." I sighed. "And Valentine's Day is around the corner…"

"Exactly." She grinned. "What better time than that to talk about it?"

I laughed quietly, knowing that the suggestion was cliché and aware of it, but justified.

"Speaking of, have you thought of what you're going to do for a date that day?" she asked.

"Not in any great detail. We might not have time for anything with planning this – and work's due to be on the upswing again at any point – accreditation is right on our heels." I said.

"Aw!" Christine pouted.

"Them's the breaks, especially in the industries we work in." I reminded her.

"True true…" she conceded. "Maybe trade presents or do something when you get a moment's peace or things aren't so nuts?"

I nodded. "That's an idea…"

* * *

The second week of February was a blur. Between setting up and attending appointments for various items to do with the fundraiser, and work reaching a breakneck pace again as predicted, James and I had very little couple time.

By the end of that week, everything had been solidified. The hotel had been paid; a meal of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and winter vegetables was selected, plus a vegetarian option of butternut squash lasagna with béchamel sauce, Christine's uncle was set to provide entertainment, and the tickets ordered. Dr. Cuddy was in the process of sending a mailing to the benefactors and staff as well as calling them, making sure as many as possible could attend to equal the amount needed.

"I don't know about you, but my brain is about as fried as this wonton." I admitted to James as we ate takeout in the office on a break.

"Mine too. And as if we weren't already worn out…it's our turn for night shift tomorrow." He said.

"Oh dear…" I said. "We'll pull through, though."

"Yep…" he said, helping me clean up the food as we finished it. After he settled back into his chair, he smiled. "Do you know what today is?"

"Uh, the fourteenth?" I said, and then added a split second later. "Valentine's Day! Oh my goodness – I didn't even realize."

"It's okay." He said, still smiling, going to reach beside the desk. "Close your eyes."

I shot him a look of bewilderment, but did as asked. "When did you have time to…?"

"Shh…" he soothed.

A couple minutes later, I felt his hand on my shoulder and a slight change in weight on my thighs. "Open 'em…" he said.

My eyes drifted down to a lacy purple gift bag in my lap.

"James…" I blushed.

"Happy Valentine's Day." He said sheepishly, kissing my cheek, then going to stand to my left.

I giggled as I opened the bag and reached inside, pulling out a large coffee table book. It was a _Life_ magazine collection of Nina Leen's body of work. She was a well-known photographer of fashion and daily life throughout the middle of the last century.

My eyes lit up and I gasped. "This is amazing! Thank you!" He bent down so I could hug him.

"You're welcome…" he said softly. "…but there's something else in there too."

I reached forward and set the book on the desk, looking at him with my eyebrow cocked. I dug deep into the bag, pushing aside what remained of the white tissue. My fingertips registered the softness of velvet. Frowning, I grabbed for it and revealed a small black jewelry box.

I bit my lip and blushed afresh, my stomach doing somersaults as I opened the lid. Inside was a lovely, delicate opal ring. The stone itself looked like the cotton candy clouds of a summer sunset – warm pinks and purples with flashes of golden orange. The workmanship was elegant and detailed to the nth degree. The band and prongs were rose gold with beading all along the band, twisting elegantly to white gold floral filigree work along the bezel. On either side of the opal were two tiny round-cut diamonds.

My jaw dropped as I examined it. "_James…_" I breathed his name this time. "You have well and truly outdone yourself. This is stunning, my God…I'm…I'm speechless. Thank you so much."

He beamed. "I'm so glad you love it, sweetheart."

I looked from him to the ring, a rush of emotions coursing through my body.

He chuckled, kneeling beside me now. "Want me to put it on for you?"

I nodded, still in shock. He gently took my small hand in his much larger one, sliding the band over my ring finger.

"Not to ruin the moment, but what does this mean exactly?" I asked.

"It's a promise ring…" he said.

Tears glistened in my eyes, but they were happy ones. "Oh wow…"

He rubbed my back; smiling, and ran his free hand along my cheek. "You're very special to me, Kate."

"You're very special to me too." Was my half whispered reply.

I wanted to say more, but then wasn't the time nor the place. I knew it was going to be soon though, before the both of us were driven mad from the want of it.

* * *

"Get outta town!" Christine yelped when I told her when we had dinner at her place one night. "Let me see it!"

I held up my left hand and smiled shyly.

"Holy crap!" she said, pulling my hand toward her. "That's the most beautiful ring I've ever seen!"

"Isn't it? I don't even know how he got my size right. Even crazier, it's vintage." I said.

"Of course it is, the sly dog!" she grinned. "That was no small feat then…"

I nodded. "Exactly. But he is a tenured doctor and a department head, so…"

"Right. But my _word_…" she gasped.

"I'm still in disbelief. A promise ring after barely three months." I said. "But be that as it may, I'm so touched."

"I bet! What did you get him?" she asked.

"A bottle of his favorite cologne, and tickets to a film noir festival at the Garden Theatre the weekend after the ball." I said.

"You are so cultured!" she remarked. "What wonderful gifts."

I said a quiet word of thanks.

"What does your mom think of all this? The promise ring and such?" she asked.

"Oh, she's convinced she hears wedding bells." I said, laughing. "Said that if the promise ring is this elaborate – my engagement ring will be one I can skate on!"

"No kidding!" she laughed too. "When are you bringing him home for the big meet and greet?"

"I was thinking of going home for Easter in April, and bringing him then." I said.

"Aww, that'll be nice!" she cooed, then paused. "Isn't he Jewish, though?"

"Officially, yeah." I said. "But he doesn't practice, so the technicalities don't matter that much."

She nodded. "Oh, I meant to tell you, I asked Cody to the ball!"

"And?" I egged.

"He said yes!" she squeaked.

"That's my girl!" I said, reaching across the table to give her a high five.

"I'm really itching to see it all come together." She said, sort of wistful.

I sighed happily. "Me too."

* * *

The day of the ball arrived. James, Christine, and I all worked extra hours during that week so we could leave early to do a final check on things, and get the ballroom ready.

We changed into more comfortable clothing, and before we left the hospital, Dr. Cuddy stopped James and I in the hallway.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" she asked, her voice had a trace of sternness in it.

A look of worry crossed our faces as we followed her to a private corner.

"There's been rumors flying lately that you two are an item." She said. "Now while I don't have a problem with that, if it is true, why haven't you told me?"

I looked down, feeling slightly ashamed before speaking. "That was my fault, Dr. Cuddy. I didn't want word of our relationship getting around as I thought it would cast both of us in a poor light – people assuming I was getting special treatment, for example. Naturally, the inevitable happened and people found out. I can assure you that while we're here we keep things strictly professional. I apologize for not telling you sooner."

"It's every bit my fault as well…" James said. "Being a department head it should have been my responsibility to come to you. And I can confirm what Kate's said… we do keep things on the up and up and also fair as far as workload is concerned."

She seemed satisfied with our answers. "Glad to hear it." She said. "I wish you both the best of luck. See you tonight!" She smiled at us before leaving.

"Phew!" I said when she was well out of earshot.

"Indeed." He replied. "I knew she wasn't going to be upset about us dating, people have been in working and personal relationships here before… but we really should have told her instead of letting her find out from the rumor mill."

I nodded. "All water under the bridge now. Everything's fine."

He took my hand as we walked through the parking garage. "Where to?"

"We gotta swing by Acorn Glen and pick up Christine, she's having her car inspected today, and then we meet Luke at the hotel for sound check and begin setup!" I said, climbing into the passenger seat.

"Sounds like a plan!" he said. "And just so you know…we have quite a bit of money left over in the budget from all that we saved."

"How much?" I asked.

"Two thousand. I wondered what you wanted to do with it." He said.

"Donate it toward the wing expansion." I said, grinning.

"I'll write a check for that amount when I get home." He said, giving my hand a squeeze.

As we waited at a stop sign near Mt. Lucas Road, James' phone went off.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Wilson, hi!" I could hear Dr. Cuddy's voice through the small speaker.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Great news! We just got the tally in for the guests tonight." She said.

"The last of the responses came in, finally? I know you were waiting on two more…" he asked, hopeful.

"Yeah, we have our hundred!" she said.

"Yes!" I said.

"Excellent!" he said. "Kate and I were just on the way to work on decorations and such…this day just keeps getting better!"

"It really does." I could hear the smile in her voice.

We pulled into the assisted living facility's parking lot as they hung up.

"We did it!" I cried, sliding across the console to hug him.

He smiled brightly, kissing the crown of my head. "None of this would have happened if it weren't for you, though…"

"_We all_ made a great team." I said, not wanting to take all the glory for myself.

"We did." He conceded as Christine walked up to the car.

"Hi, kids!" she said as she climbed in. "What's the latest?"

"We reached our goal!" James said with a slight holler of happiness.

She cheered.

"And what's more – we saved two grand – and we're donating that toward the wing expansion." I said.

Her eyes practically bugged out of her head. "That's fifty-two thousand! Lydia, Joe, and Dr. Cuddy are gonna go ballistic!"

"No question! Now comes the fun part." I said as we got on the highway.

"Sweet!" she said. "My uncle called before I left, he had a DJ staff meeting this morning, but he should be on his way to New Brunswick now."

"Super!" I said, bursting to make the vision a concrete reality.

* * *

We arrived in New Brunswick about a half hour later, greeted by the hotel concierge and Jennifer, the events coordinator, as we lugged boxes and a ladder into the ballroom.

James was already starting to feel a little warm, and he yanked his hooded sweatshirt over his head, revealing a gray t-shirt underneath. I was feeling a little overheated myself, and slung off my cable knit cardigan, leaving me in just a tank top and jeans. Christine was quick to lose a layer or two as well.

Her uncle showed up at about two o'clock, getting his fader boards, turntables, speakers, and music programs into place.

"Hey Uncle Luke!" Christine called after greeting him. "How about some tunes?"

"You got it!" he saluted, pushing a couple of buttons. The opening notes of "We Didn't Start The Fire" pumped through the sound system – crystal clear.

As he looped streamers over the beamwork, James started drumming in time to the music on one of them, singing:

"Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray,  
South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio,  
Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, television  
North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe.

Take it, girls! Come on!" he called to us from the ladder he was standing on.

Christine and I filled balloons at the helium tank, belting out the second verse:

"Rosenbergs, H-bomb, Sugar Ray, Panmunjom, Brando, "The King and I" and "The Catcher in the Rye," Eisenhower, vaccine, England's got a new queen, Marciano, Liberace, Santayana goodbye!"

Through the chorus and the remaining verses, our singing and antics got progressively sillier. I hadn't really seen James let loose; it was refreshing to witness a different side to him.

"Woo! That was a blast." I said a while later, tying up the last bunch of balloons and fluffing one of the centerpieces.

Christine and James agreed, pink faced and grinning as much as I was.

The boxes of decorations were emptied by late afternoon, and we relaxed at a table with bottles of water.

"So, what are you wearing tonight?" I asked James.

"It's a surprise." He said in a low voice, smirking. "What about you?"

"It's a surprise." I returned the intrigue.

He chuckled softly. "Never miss a trick, do you?"

"Never." I winked.

* * *

I heard mild swearing coming from my bathroom. When I got there, I found Christine standing by the vanity with her skirt hiked up, frowning and staring in the mirror.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Got a run in these damn things." She grumbled, pointing to a spreading slash in her nylons. "Can you help me?"

"Well…" I said, surveying the damage. "They're past the help of clear nail polish."

Her face fell.

"Not to worry, though." I reassured. "I have a pair of sheer black ones with Swiss dots on them that will look really cute with your dress." I went to my dresser to get them.

"You're a lifesaver!" she called.

"No problem." I smiled when I returned, handing them to her.

"You need help with your dress?" she asked a few minutes later.

"Yeah." I said, tension in my voice from trying to reach the back of it. "Can you zip me when you get the chance?"

"Sure!" she said, the clack of her heels sounding on the hardwood as she walked over, securing me in the dress with little effort.

I turned to look at her. "You look great! Like a model, really."

"Thanks, but you look more the model than me. That dress fits you like it was made for you." She said.

"Thanks." I blushed, going over to my closet in stocking feet, picking up two pairs of shoes. "Suede boots or black pumps, you think?"

"The pumps." She said, pointing to the patent leather open toed heels in my right hand. "Makes your legs appear longer."

I nodded, putting them on.

She whistled. "Look out, boys! Hot nurse on the scene!"

"Shush!" I teased, sticking my tongue out at her. "When's Cody coming to get you anyway?"

"He's meeting me there actually." She said. "He feels bad – but one of our new patients is having trouble adjusting and they've bonded so much, he's the only one that can help."

"Aww." I cooed. "You can carpool with James and I, then."

"You don't mind?" she asked.

"Not at all. He's pretty easygoing about that type of thing." I said.

She smiled a little bashfully.

"Hey, as I've said before, you helped me more than once in my hour of need." I said.

"I know, I just don't want to impose on your couple time." She said.

I shook my head. "You're not imposing. We all worked very hard on tonight and it's time to reap what we've sowed."

She nodded, setting my radio to the 80s station, and then sat beside me at the dresser to apply makeup. She applied a white, shimmery base all over her eyelid and up to her brow bone, accenting it with a violet shade on the outer third of each eyelid, extending both to almost her temple. She tightlined her entire eye with black pencil, and put a hot pink eye shadow in a thin line underneath the lower lash line on each eye, meeting the beginning of the violet color. Wiping up any loose powder from her cheeks, she applied her foundation, heavily contouring her cheeks with a hot pink blush that was a shade lighter than her dress. The finishing touch was black mascara and a coat of a pinky-violet frost lipstick.

Her hair was wild and curly, pulled off her face with a black tulle bow headband. Hot pink and black bangles were piled on each wrist, and large black dangle earrings offset the strapless neckline she wore.

"You remind me of Madonna, and it's awesome!" I said as she finished.

She laughed, thanking me. "Now it's your turn."

She applied the same white base to my eyes, but layered a shimmery taupe color over it all the way up to my eyebrows, and extended it out, but a little less so than on herself, and applied it to my lower lash line as well. She rimmed my eyes with black pencil, and also did a layer of black winged liquid liner on each eyelid, extending the wing to meet the taupe shadow. Then, she painted a thin strip of silver glitter liquid eyeliner just under the wings. After foundation, she contoured my cheeks with a light peach shade, coated my lashes with brownish black mascara, and painted my lips with a very shiny red lipstick.

I left my hair in its semi-frizzy natural curly state with some teasing at the crown, and fluffed my bangs with a pick after they were curled.

"Selfie time, glamour girl!" Christine said after we were satisfied with how we looked. She grabbed her Nikon and posed us together for several pictures, stopping when the buzzer sounded.

I looked at the clock. "Five forty-five. James is right on time."

"Ooh! Maybe we can get him in for a picture too!" Christine squealed.

"We have to get to the hotel, you goof!" I laughed, going to greet him.

He kissed my cheeks to not mess up my lipstick, and I watched his jaw go slack as he came into the entryway, letting his eyes fully absorb my outfit, taking my hand. "Whoa…"

I looked at him through my eyelashes. "Is that a good 'whoa'?" I enticed.

"Definitely." He sounded like the air had just been knocked back into his lungs, shifting in his coat. "Do a turn for me?"

"Upstairs." I said with a lilt, leading the way.

He followed me into the kitchen, spotting Christine. "Looking good!" he said, hugging her.

"Thanks! I'd say 'You too', but I can't see what you're wearing!" she teased, putting her coat on.

"You'll see soon enough." He said. "Hey Christine… where's your date?"

"He had to work late, he'll meet us there." She said. "Kate said I can ride up with you guys."

"Fine by me." He said.

I cleared my throat. "As promised…" I said, doing a slow turn.

James was transfixed.

Christine and I giggled.

"Told ya that dress would work like a charm." She whispered as we all walked to the car.

Upon arriving, Luke was already playing music, mostly office-friendly Top 40 hits of the decade, saving the more dance-driven material for later. An eleventh hour check of the room and setup determined everything was a go.

James went to check our coats while Christine and I set up the table to take tickets.

"You think that House guy is coming?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Not sure. Social events like this don't seem to be his forte. But you never know, he can be full of surprises."

"It'll be interesting, for sure." Christine agreed, her expression changing when she saw James out of the corner of her eye. "Oh my god, it's Marty McFly in the flesh!" she beamed.

He was a dead-ringer for the Michael J. Fox seminal character – a cream paisley shirt beneath a light gray denim shirt, both collars popped, with a brick red down vest over both, blue jeans, and high top white Nikes.

I clapped my hands. "You look fantastic! What a great surprise!"

"Thanks, sweetie." He said, biting his lip. He pulled a pair of mirrored aviator shades out of his pocket and put them on, and took them off again, feigning a bewildered look. "Rock 'n roll…" he quoted to our laughter.

"His outfit is just too epic for words!" Christine squealed, getting her camera.

"A couple pictures, but then we have work to do." I reminded her gently.

"Okay, okay…" she teased, clicking a few snaps. "Psst!" she hissed, tilting her head in his direction. "Get in there with him. You don't have a picture together yet, do you?"

"We don't…" James said, smiling, beckoning to me.

I climbed up the small stairwell to stand beside him, arms slung around his neck, his around my waist, leaning his head on mine.

"Awww, so cute!" she said after it was taken. He squeezed my hand before letting me resume my spot at the table.

Check-in began at six-thirty. James walked with Jennifer, helping everyone get seated at the correct tables.

Joe and his wife Kathleen, Dr. Cuddy and her boyfriend Lucas, and Lydia arrived shortly thereafter, with Lydia having a somewhat unexpected guest in tow.

Christine and I were rendered wordless as James returned to the lobby. "House…" he said, slightly stunned. "You made it."

"Duh." He said, gruffly, limping up with Lydia on his arm. She wore a periwinkle off the shoulder dress; he wore blue jeans, Converse sneakers, and a 'Frankie Says Relax' t-shirt with a black blazer over it.

"Glad to see you." I said politely, taking the tickets from his hand as Lydia said her hellos.

He gave me a short yet courteous nod in response, heading in to be seated.

"Oh boy…" James said in confidence when there was a lull. "This could be a very long night."

"Why?" I asked.

"Cuddy's here with Lucas…House…hates Lucas. To put it mildly." He revealed, sighing.

"Oh." I said thickly. "I hope he behaves himself."

"He better." Christine chimed in.

James held up both his hands. "Don't worry…Cuddy, Lydia, or I'll handle him if anything goes awry."

"You shouldn't have to." I said, quietly.

"Please don't worry about it." He insisted, rubbing my shoulder as the next wave of guests entered.

* * *

The rest of check-in and dinner went off without a hitch. Even still, I went around to everyone, ensuring they were enjoying themselves.

Cody was able to join us halfway through the meal, much to Christine's delight. After introducing him to our table, she chatted animatedly with him until the dancing portion of the evening began. She definitely liked him more than she let on.

I made the rounds one more time as the music really started to take off, everyone partying up a storm on the dance floor. It was great to see the faces I worked with every day having a good time.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder as the songs changed tempo. "Hello, gorgeous…" James' velvety voice said in my ear. "Stop working and dance with me?"

I blushed, smiling as he led me out onto the floor. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he pulled me close by the waist, his hands resting on my lower back. Eventually, he leaned down, singing the words softly to me:

"_She's like the wind through my dreams  
She rides the night next to me  
She leads me through moonlight  
Only to burn me with the sun  
She's taken my heart  
But she doesn't know what she's done_

_I feel her breath on my face  
Her body close to me  
Can't look in her eyes  
She's out of my league_

_Just a fool to believe  
I have anything she needs  
She's like the wind_

_I look in the mirror and all I see  
Is a young old man with only a dream  
Am I just fooling myself  
That she'll stop the pain  
Living without her  
I'd go insane…"_

I felt his grip tighten and I lost myself. The room melted away, the other guests melted away. All that mattered was the wonderful man in my embrace.

"Isn't that just adorable…" a voice groused beside us, breaking the magical moment.

We turned to face House.

"Helping her remember the days of diapers and Big Bird, Wilson?" he asked, looking from him to me.

"House…" James sighed. "Just because you're miserable doesn't mean the rest of us have to be. Go get yourself a drink… or… talk to Foreman or something."

"Sure sure." He said, dismissively, and then leaned in closer to James before slipping away. "But, your first relationship went to hell before she could write her name, remember that."

I leaned my head on James' shoulder as I observed House at the bar.

"Why does he always have to do that?" I asked, a little sadly.

"Because he's a…" James began.

"A miserly grouch, I know." I finished. "Doesn't make it any easier. He keeps dropping little allusions and hints but never expounds on them."

"He's just being an ass…" James assured me. "He's upset because he loves Cuddy and she's here with Lucas."

I was stunned, picking my head up to look at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." James affirmed. "It's too long of a story to get into now. But… he's been after her for years. It's a real game of cat and mouse."

"So I see." I replied.

"Just forget it… everything's going splendidly." He soothed, pecking my lips briefly.

* * *

The evening was drawing to a close, though quite a few people were still dancing and living it up.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please?" Luke's voice boomed into the microphone and everyone stopped. "I have been asked to call Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dr. James Wilson, Joe MacArthur, Lydia Grote, Christine Jackson, and Kate Medeiros forward at this time.

The six of us made our way toward the front of the room, standing on the platform where Luke was. He handed Dr. Cuddy the microphone.

"Just last month, Princeton-Plainsboro hoped for the expansion of the Cuyler Wing – but came up short on fresh ideas to raise the money." She began. "The ball this evening, the brainchild of our new Oncology nurse Kate Medeiros, was the answer we needed. It is with Kate's passionate dedication and hard work, and that of her friends Christine and Joe, other members of my staff – Oncology department head Dr. James Wilson and finance committee head Lydia Grote, and your generous donations, that this dream became a reality. I am pleased to announce that we not only reached our goal of fifty-thousand dollars, but surpassed it. With the new total of fifty-two thousand, we will be able to expand the wing larger than planned, and update the cardiac imaging machinery with the most state-of-the-art available. Congratulations, everyone!"

The room erupted into a roar of applause and cheers. We were all smiles and took bows, and applauded each other – the entire assembly joining us on the floor for a last dance to "(I've Had) The Time of my Life."

"Hell of a night, eh guys?" Christine said to us as we gathered our coats.

"Without a doubt!" I said, still basking in the rush of it all. "Did you have a nice time, Cody?"

"I did!" he said. "I was going to take Christine out for a nightcap. You girls didn't have any plans, did you?"

"Oh no, I was actually going to see what my boyfriend wants to do." I said, giving Christine a wink. "Have fun, be safe!"

They waved goodbye and moved towards the door.

I felt James pull me into a hug from behind, spinning me gently to face him. "Where would you like to go, my lady?"

I grinned hugely at the words 'my lady', biting my lip a moment later, speaking in a low voice. "Hmm…it's awfully late. And your condo is a lot closer than my apartment."

A playful smile stretched across his features before he leaned in and whispered: "Are you saying you want to spend the night?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." I whispered back, smiling coyly.

"Come on…" his voice soft as he linked arms with me upon exiting.

The entire ride back to Princeton, we were still coasting the wave of high energy from the evening's events. I kept looking at the promise ring thoughtfully, wondering where our adventure together would take us next. We both felt on top of the world.

* * *

"I know every word has been used to describe our success," I said as he unlocked the door. "But it was nothing short of a miracle."

He stopped and looked at me before opening it. "Kate…the idea was yours. Largely, the execution was yours, too. The rest of us were only a guide."

"I wouldn't have gotten to speak at that meeting in the first place if it weren't for your pull." I countered.

He sighed as we walked inside. "Regardless of my pull…what happened tonight is the best thing I've ever seen happen at the hospital in the eleven years I've been there."

I nodded in concession, taking off my coat and placing it beside his coat, the vest, and one of his shirts. He raised my chin with his hand, regarding me with the same intensity as he had on our second date.

"And speaking of miracles, how can I look at you and not believe in them?"

My mouth opened slightly in wonder. Our chests heaved with the candor of his words. His fingers still rested gently under my chin, using them to close the gap between us. I tried to form a rational thought, but only one word would come out.

"I…"

He kissed me with the most electric passion I had ever felt in my life. It sent every nerve in my body ablaze, and I can only imagine that he felt more of the same. He quite literally swept me off my feet, kissing my whole face as he walked us backwards – through the living room, the kitchen, the hall, and up to the stair landing – his lips never leaving my skin.

I said his name twice in a chant, a mantra – the silvery moon pouring through the window and over us. He set me on my feet and pushed me tenderly against the wall, pressing his torso against mine, fingers toying with my curls and his kisses moving down my jaw and neck to my collarbone.

My heart was pounding. He smelled so intoxicatingly good and was so warm and comforting – the sound of his soft breathing and humming driving me crazy. I just couldn't get enough. Every emotion I had swelled to my throat.

"James… honey… look at me…" I gasped.

He tried to catch his breath as he complied. "What…what is it?"

I coaxed his head down for a soft, sweet kiss on the lips.

My voice was barely audible as I pulled back, running my hand through his hair, eyes locked on his. "I love you."

Tears lined his eyes. "Really?" he breathed, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

I nodded. "Yes, really. I love you, James. I do."

"Oh god, I'm so happy!" he said, pulling me in tighter than ever, kissing me again, chastely. "I love you too, Kate… with all that I've got!"

I smiled against his lips, and we dashed giggling down the hall.

He carried me to the foot of his bed once in his room, and we continued kissing and holding each other as we fell back onto the comforter – kicking off our shoes on the way.

He hovered over me, looking into my eyes. I gazed back into his, playing with his hair and eventually smoothing my hands down to his exquisite cheekbones.

"You're the most beautiful woman in the world…" he said. "You're a constant joy in my life and as I said before a miracle… my miracle…"

"You've taught me so many things…" I said. "But most of all you've taught me how to love again. Truly and completely. You have everything I need."

The tears that rimmed his eyes started to fall down his cheeks. I reached up and kissed them away, holding him close to me. I wanted this more than anything – not just the physical – but the deep emotional connection that came along with it. His lips found mine again, and as things deepened I found myself tugging at his shirt, freeing the buttons one by one.

"Kate…" he whispered as we broke apart. "Do you…want to…?"

I nodded. "Please…"

He was spurned on by my request, wriggling out of the shirt and tossing it away. I bit my lip and trailed my hands down the smooth skin of his chest. He took a deep breath and I watched his eyes lower to half mast. He pulled me into a sitting position, placing several dizzying kisses to my lips, and I felt my dress fall from my body to the carpet below as he unzipped it. I hummed happily as he pressed me once more to the mattress and trailed more kisses on my jaw and neck, feeling his strong hands brush my hips, eventually gripping them. I blushed slightly and reached forward for the fly on his jeans, letting them fall to the floor as well. He cocooned me in his arms as I arched my body into his, holding on as tight as I could manage – both of us pledging our love to each other again and again as we sank deeper into the sheets.


	15. Chapter 15: The Spring of our Discontent

_Chapter 15: The Spring of our Discontent_

Milky sunlight illuminated my closed eyes. I stirred and shifted, feeling a pair of strong arms around my waist in the tangle of soft white sheets and beige comforter.

I smiled, remembering the events of the night before. He was perfect in every sense of the word – gentle, loving. My comfort was of chief importance.

Rolling around to my right side, I faced him. He hummed but didn't wake, his grip securing around me again in his sleep.

His hair stuck up every which way against the pillows, lengthy eyelashes fanned out against either cheek, lips slightly pursed. His half of the blanket had bunched around the lower half of his torso. Looking down, I noticed the half over me was above chest level. Had I gotten cold in the night and he tried to warm me?

The scent in the bed was a bit temperate, tinged with a mixture of his cologne and my perfume. I simply lay awake, content to watch him snooze. He was my first time, and I didn't regret a minute of it. We had complete love and trust now.

Gazing briefly at the clock over his shoulder, it wasn't quite six. My eyes drifted back to his face, and I noticed his own eyes fluttering open.

"Morning…" he said in a deep voice, a sleepy smile creeping over his features.

"Morning." I said softly, giggling.

He cupped my cheek in his hand and gave me a kiss. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a rock. You?" I said.

He yawned. "Same..." Then, a beat later: "I love you so much."

I kissed his nose. "I love you too."

The smile from before returned, wider now. "It still makes me so happy to hear you say that."

I nodded in agreement, cuddling up to him.

He settled his head in the crook of my neck. "I could marry you, you know."

A nervous fluttering in my stomach took hold, but on the outside, I played it off. I picked up one of the smaller pillows and teasingly bopped him in the face with it.

"One day at a time, James." I said, giggling again so as to soften the words.

"I know…" he said, sighing some.

"Last night was a big enough step, don't you think?" I said.

"Yeah, you're right, honey." He conceded, kissing my cheek. I could tell that he didn't want to spoil things any more than I did.

We talked some more, mostly remembering funny moments from the ball, before I started getting dozy.

"Why don't you sleep a little while longer?" he suggested. "Then I'll fix us something to eat…"

"M'kay…" I murmured, settling back into the covers.

* * *

The scent of cooking bacon wafted its way upstairs. I blinked sleep from my eyes and sat up, looking at the clock. Ten past eight. As I gained further consciousness, I noticed our clothes and shoes had been picked up from the floor and neatly folded on the night stand.

Peeling down the covers, I grabbed my underwear from the top of the pile, slipping it on. I was going to put my dress back on, silly as that was, but then I saw a pair of black sweatpants and his McGill sweatshirt folded on the foot of the bed.

Shaking my head with a chuckle, I dressed in the sweats – pulling the drawstring on the pants nearly as tight as it'd go, and rolling the legs to my shins. My stomach growled as I bounded downstairs – the sound of a Van Morrison record getting louder as I got nearer to the kitchen.

There stood James at the stove, tending to bacon in a frying pan. In the pan beside it were a few slices of French toast. Not aware that I was in the room, he was singing again.

"I can hear her heart beat;

From a thousand miles.

And the heavens open;

Every time she smiles…"

"Oh hi!" he smiled as he noticed me standing there.

"Hey." I said, smiling at him then looking at the food. "Looks good."

"Thanks." He said, a bit sheepish. "Is this going to be enough for you, you think?"

"Oh gosh, plenty!" I said, going over to the coffee maker.

"I'm glad." He said, flipping the French toast. "Coffee's in the cabinet above you. I'd have made some for you… but I wasn't sure what kind you wanted."

I nodded, popping a Blonde Roast K-Cup into the machine, grabbing a mug from the rack nearby.

As it brewed, I went to sit at the high counter-top, my legs swinging off the stool. "Thanks for breakfast." I said. "And the loaner clothes."

"It's my pleasure." He said. "You look cute in my sweatshirt by the way…"

"Thanks." I said as he plated the food. "It's really comfy."

He smiled, serving me – coffee as well. "You can keep it… if you want to."

"Perhaps I will." I said, spearing a piece of French toast on my fork.

He sat across from me with his own plate, grinning like a schoolboy. "Christine e-mailed me the picture of us from last night."

"Ha, already?" I laughed.

"Yeah – I think she's more gung ho about us than we are!" he laughed. "I printed it out. I just have to find a frame for it… I printed a copy for you too."

"Guess that makes us official." I said. "Thanks, again."

"Guess so…and you're welcome." He said, looking at me like it was the day we met all over again.

We didn't do a whole lot for the rest of the day – mostly watched B movies on television and drank tea. It felt nice to finally relax after many eventful weeks.

* * *

Most think of Spring as a time for growth and rebirth. Such was not the case at Princeton-Plainsboro. One of James' longest staying patients – a former delicatessen owner named Frank – passed away on the Equinox after an arduous battle with Hodgkin's lymphoma. I hadn't known him as long as James had, but it broke both our hearts.

"It was a tough road…" James said to me in the office, lifting his head from his hands, his voice a fraction of its normal volume. "And for a while there it looked like he was going to pull through. Every now and again remissions happen, and I was hoping he'd be one of the lucky ones."

"I know." I soothed. "We all loved Frank. But he's at peace now."

"You know what's funny, Kate?" he asked. I shook my head. "People have thanked me when I told them of their diagnosis. Thanked me…does that seem at all strange to you?"

"No." I said. "It's your manner. You radiate empathy. People in their time of need gravitate toward feeling like someone cares. You fight for those who feel they don't have anything left. With you they know that they have some kind of a chance at making it. Not many doctors can say that."

"Thank you." He said, sounding sadder than ever.

I fought back tears of my own as I hugged him. The minute he was in my embrace he started to cry. I just let him pour all his feelings out.

Those not in understanding of our profession would simply say to 'get over it' or that it was the nature of our jobs. Yes, cancer is devastating and life-altering, and death is a part of life, but as James pointed out – there is hope, there is chance for remission. An Oncology department is at its heart a family if run properly – a unique one – but still a family. Losing a patient was like losing a treasured aunt or grandparent.

* * *

Frank's widow Carol asked us to attend the memorial service, as we had grown so close during her husband's treatment.

The morning of the service dawned dark, raw and rainy, and the weather held that way throughout the afternoon. Upon our return, Dr. Cuddy saw the marked change in our moods, and asked us how we were holding up. We assured her we'd be well – and returned to the office.

A tiny bright spot in everything was when I spotted the picture of James and I on the desk. He caught me smiling at it, and said: "Just as Marie is a source of strength for you…you are for me."

I thanked him sweetly on the way to the nurses' station - to update the patient interface.

As I sat at the computer emptying the inbox, one of the nurses who regarded me with disdain my first day came around the corner. She had given me grief in the past – but I chose not to let it bother me – which was why I made no mention of it to James or anyone else.

She leaned against the desk, sort of staring at me.

"What is it, Sophie?" I asked tiredly. "If you're here to sass me I'm not in the mood…"

"Oh I was just here to pick up some old files." She said. It seemed plausible enough. When she bent to pick up the bin, her eyes fell on my left hand.

"Pretty ring…" she commented when she was standing again. "Where'd you get it?"

It was unclear if she was being sincere or not.

"My boyfriend gave it to me." I said flatly, hoping that my answer would gratify her and make her go away.

"That's sweet…" she lilted, and then I knew the conversation was far from over. "Boyfriend, huh?" she added. "Rumor has it you and Dr. Wilson are bedfellows."

I continued to focus on my work. "Even if we are it's no business of yours." I said coolly.

"Hm…" she said, coolly as I. "You know he's been married and divorced three times, right?" A smirk crept on her face – she thought she had gotten to me.

_She has to be lying…_I thought. _She's just a bully and trying to get a rise out of you, Kate, ignore it._

I finished logging the entry I was on and gave her no credence – walking back to the office.

When I entered, right off James could tell that something was troubling me.

"Hey…" he said softly. "What's wrong?"

The doubts from two months ago came back with a vengeance – waging war with my insistence that Sophie was full of it. I did my best to stuff them down as I attempted to annotate some labs.

"Nothing, I'm fine." I lied.

He shut the door. "I can see by the way you're acting that you're not. Now really…what's on your mind?"

I huffed a breath through my nose, shutting my eyes, getting a little annoyed now. "I said. It was nothing."

"All right, all right…" he said, holding up his hands in retreat.

We worked in silence for a couple of hours, almost until the end of my shift – my thoughts making it a challenge to concentrate.

Finally, I just couldn't take it anymore.

"Sophie said at the nurses' station today that you've been married and divorced three times. Is that true?" I blurted.

His head snapped up to look at me. I watched his mouth flatten into a line; the color drained some from his face.

The silence felt like years. The thoughts grew louder now, taunting me:

"…_That leads me to think, what skeletons might be in his closet, you know?" _

"_I just get a weird feeling about him, Kate. I mean, on the outside he looks like he has it all together, all handsome and charming, but what's behind all that?"_

"…_Keep your eye out for any context clues about things James may be keeping from you."_

"_He's had a rough life, I won't say much more than that."_

"_You're grooming quite a protégé, Wilson. Or is it a…"_

"_Your first relationship went to hell before she could write her name, remember that."_

"_Don't worry about it…"_

"_It's nothing…"_

"_Just forget it…"_

"_I could marry you, you know."_

His face grew progressively paler, and I knew then all the things that Christine had warned me of, what House had alluded to made sense. And regretfully, Sophie was right too.

_You're grooming quite a protégé, Wilson… or is it a __**fourth wife**__?!_

"Oh hell…" I squeaked, my hand going over my mouth as I sank deeper into the chair opposite him at the desk. "It _is_ true…" I must have been ghostly white myself.

"Yes." He said sternly, sadly. "I was going to tell you, I swear. But…"

"But what?!" I said, leaping out of the chair, my hands flying around vigorously as I talked. "Were you were going to wait until you'd twirled me into an engagement? Turned me into wife number four? Or were you just going to keep it under your hat until we were both in a damn pine box?"

"Kate, I…" he began, fearful of my hurt and anger.

"Let me finish, please!" I snapped, tears welling in my eyes. "One marriage and divorce is bad enough. But three?! Three?! What in the hell got you to thinking that keeping this a secret was at all okay?" I took a breath, swallowing at the forming lump in my throat. "House… House knows everything, doesn't he?"

"Yeah…" he replied, voice small. "He kept trying to tell you but I wouldn't let him… I wanted to tell you myself."

"Bullshit!" I said, dangerously. "You were just trying to see how long you could keep it hush-hush. If you had really wanted to tell me, you wouldn't have let me find out from one of the nurses – especially one that hates me! James…" I angrily wiped the tears that spilled from my eyes. "I trusted you; I told you I love you… I…even _slept _with you! Do you have any idea how hard of a decision that was for me to make? How long I second guessed myself about it because I was scared that I might get hurt? Now you've proven every doubt I ever had…I…I can't do this right now."

I felt sick, taking off the ring and setting it on the blotter.

"Kate… no…please…" he begged, fighting tears, trying to reach for my hand but I pulled it away. "Please…I love you…"

"No you don't." I said, my voice broken. "It's over. Maybe for good. I don't know. I…I have to go home now."

"Kate!" he called, scrambling to stop me as I flung open the door, but I paid him no heed, briskly walking down the hall.

"Damn it!" I heard him say, followed by a noise that sounded like he banged both fists on the desk.

Before anyone could reach out to me, I dashed into the bathroom, kneeling on the floor after I scrambled into a stall. I sobbed and vomited until my whole body ached.

I didn't know how much time had passed before I slowly rose to my feet, shuffling to the sink to clean up. I steeled myself against it, wetting a paper towel under the faucet, wiping my mouth, and then used another to wipe the rest of my face. I looked like something the cat dragged in, but I didn't care. On a personal level, nothing mattered anymore.

The walk to the bus stop felt miles long. I solemnly gave the driver Christine's address, plopping myself into one of the front seats.

As I trudged up to her door, a brisk wind smeared any fresh tears all over my cheeks and lips. I shakily rang the bell.

Her smile as she answered quickly faded upon seeing me. "Oh god, Katie…what happened?"

I started to sob again. "I don't think… this is something Chocolate Therapy can fix. Not this time..."


	16. Chapter 16 - Shell Shock

_Chapter 16: Shell Shock_

She ushered me inside quickly, rubbing my back. The sobbing got worse as she steered me toward the sofa.

Her face crumpled at my completely destroyed state. "Oh, love…"

I leaned into her and hugged her tight, sobbing the hardest I had all afternoon. The tears just kept coming, my breathing becoming labored and erratic.

"Shh…" she soothed, rocking me the harder I cried.

About forty minutes went by before I hiccoughed and tried to speak.

My voice was strained and scratchy. "Can have…so-*hic* some tea p-please?"

"Of course." She said gently, rising to make it. "What kind?"

"Any kind is fine." I croaked. "As long as it's got lots of honey in it…throat is killing me."

She nodded, setting the kettle on to boil. She went off into the bathroom and I heard the faucet running.

"Chris…" I squeaked. "What are you doing?"

"Getting a cool washcloth for your face." She called. "You just stay put."

She returned with the aforementioned washcloth, sitting beside me and gently passing my face. "There...better?"

"A little." I said softly, biting my lip to keep it from quivering.

"What the hell happened?" she asked. "Did you lose your job or something?"

I shook my head. "Worse."

"What could be worse than that?" she asked, adding. "Oh for god's sake. It's James, isn't it?"

I nodded, swallowing back more tears.

She frowned. "What happened between you two? Things were great when we left ya at the ball…"

"They were…" I began. "He took me home—to his place— praised me again for the efforts I started to make the ball such a runaway hit. Then we kissed and it got really intense. He picked me up off my feet like a princess in a fairytale even! I told him I loved him – you should have seen how happy we were, Chris! It's something I've been toying with saying for a while now. Then we kissed again – got to his room and made love. Pretty much all night."

Her eyes went wide.

"I know… it's very unlike me." I prefaced. "But I got so swept up with finally getting the nerve to tell him how I felt that being intimate just seemed the natural thing to do. It was consensual, so don't worry about that. And the next morning – he made me breakfast and gave me his sweatshirt and some sweatpants to wear. We just had a lazy day that day as we were both so tired."

She nodded.

"And this week has been really rough at work to start with. One of James' patients – one that he was really close to – died on the first day of Spring, what was that – Monday? Yeah, Monday. He was really down and out about it – really hoped for remission for the guy. Guess it wasn't to be, though. I comforted him, and later that day the patient's widow asked us to attend the memorial service scheduled today. He and I were already in a funk, and when we returned Dr. Cuddy even checked on us. I went to update the patient interface – and a nurse named Sophie that's been really mean to me since Day One came over – asked about my ring…"

Christine looked at my hand and noticed the ring missing. "Where is it, speaking of which?"

"I'm getting to that." I said. She blinked and swallowed before I continued. "And I kind of gave her the brush off, you know? Said it was from my boyfriend. I hoped that would send her on her way – but no. She rehashed the rumors going around – that James and I...were…together."

Her eyes went wide again at the word 'were'.

"And I shut her down – but then she said – 'You know he's been married and divorced three times, right?' And it made me panic but I didn't let it show."

Christine heard the kettle whistle and went to fix up the tea.

"She was lying, right?" she asked as she stirred the honey in.

"No…" I said, tears stinging my eyes.

"Come on, Katie…you've gotta be kidding." She said, handing me the mug.

I took it from her, sipping it. "I wish like crazy I was."

Her mouth fell open as she sat down again.

"And it really bothered me. And all the stuff we talked about…House's insinuations…all of it kept gnawing at me as I was trying to work. James even sensed something was up… and I tried to hold him off as I didn't want to give it any credence as I didn't wanna believe it myself. Finally I just asked him point blank because I couldn't stand the suspense any longer. The way he looked at me…he went white as a sheet…and confirmed it." I wiped away the new tears that rolled down my cheeks.

"That bastard!" she shouted, then said, calmer. "What happened next?"

"I screamed at him. How could he think that hiding something that huge was okay? Was he just waiting to ensnare me into an engagement and make me wife number four without knowing about the others? Would he have never told me and taken it to the grave? He swore he would have told me eventually…but I didn't believe him. House knew all along. But he wasn't trying to protect James. House was trying to warn me of this himself – but James said he stopped him because he planned on telling me eventually. Which I didn't believe for a minute, and told him so. I took the ring off and gave it back to him – ending it – us. He begged me to stay, told me he loved me. I said he couldn't possibly if he did this, and walked out." I took another swig of tea to keep myself from crying again.

"I'm glad you found it in yourself to put an end to it. What really makes me angry is how he can justify taking your virginity when you've been open and honest with him and he didn't show you the same courtesy. That is beyond messed up! I was afraid something was not up to snuff – but not this bad! I'm so sorry, I was really rooting for you two." She said.

"I know you were…so was I." I said, sadly.

Then, my phone rang. We let it go to voicemail, until…

"Kate…" James' voice said. "I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now. What I've done is terrible…unforgivable. And though you probably don't believe it I do love you. With all of my heart. To see you in such pain and knowing I'm the cause is killing me. I meant what I said after the ball – you're such a joy in my life. A joy that I took for granted. Allow me to make this right in time and…"

Before he could continue, Christine thrust her hand into my purse and answered.

"Listen." She said, holding her anger in as best she could. "With your…stunt…this afternoon, you've destroyed her. She opened herself to you and you knew damn well that was difficult for her to begin with – and you used that to get your rocks off. If you truly loved her you would have come clean and not let her find out from a third party. You're a coward, James Wilson, in the word's purest form. Don't you dare talk to her from this moment forward unless it's a fu…a freaking emergency for work! Go to hell—in a flaming hand basket!"

She snapped the phone shut and threw it back into the bag, hugging me tightly again.

"You're gonna be okay, Katie." She said into my hair. "We'll get through this, together."


	17. Chapter 17 - Walking Wounded

_Chapter 17: Walking Wounded_

I grimaced, setting my phone back on the blotter. I had pretty much bet on the fact that Kate wouldn't respond…but Christine's cutting words caught me off guard.

In retrospect, I couldn't blame her. She did what anyone would have done in our situation - sought the counsel of a close friend. If the tables were turned, I would have without question gone to House. It's what I inadvertently did when I found out House had been tailing me at that conference back in 1991 – and thus a co-dependent friendship was born.

It was a perfect storm really – I was in my twenties – fresh out of med school and on the heels of my first residency. Sam, my first wife, had just served divorce papers. I carried them around with me constantly but never opened them. She ran off to Baltimore to further her education and left me to pick up the pieces.

After a long day of hearing paper topics and keynote speakers, I found my way to the hotel's bar and… imbibed a bit…quite a bit. I was on my fourth martini when I noticed the same song kept playing on the jukebox – "Leave A Tender Moment Alone." It was the same guy playing it, too.

I slung back the remainder of my drink when he went to put another quarter in. The familiar B to F key progression filled the room – doing nothing to quell the aching in my head or my heart.

Feeling a sense of over inflated courage due in large part to the alcohol…I walked up to him.

"Will you stop…playing that _damn_ song?" I slurred.

When he refused – a volatile cocktail of adrenaline, false invincibility, and anger coursed through me. I picked up his not quite empty beer glass and hurled it at the antique mirror over the jukebox. I was too far gone to truly realize what I'd done, and the next thing I knew New Orleans police were carting me off to a holding cell – citing disturbing the peace, destruction of public property, and all the rest of it.

In my still drunk, post-rage state, I picked out the tiny shards of glass that had lodged themselves in my palm. When I looked up, on the other side of the bars was a tall man in about his mid-thirties, speaking in a gruff voice.

"I'm bailing you out." He told me matter-of-factly.

"You don't even know me…" I mumbled.

"Let's get introductions over with, then." He said, still speaking brusquely. "I'm Greg House." He gestured with his hand to indicate it was my turn to talk.

"James Wilson." I sighed. "Pretty ironic, huh? A post-med student with a rap sheet?"

"It's a stupid way to start a medical career." House pointed out as the warden opened the door.

I gave an attempt at a nod.

"Been wondering what was in that envelope you had." He added as he walked in.

"You…you're at the conference too?" I asked dumbly.

"_Yeah_…" he said. "And I followed you. Not many young guys carry around envelopes like manila teddy bears."

"Divorce papers…" I finally said. "They're divorce papers."

"Ah." He said.

"I don't understand…" I said. "She and I fought a lot, to be fair, but I thought the issues were solvable…until now."

"So she gives you the pink slip out of the blue." He deduced, looking at my too-small shirt. "And by the looks of things no great shakes at laundry, either."

I laughed. It was the first time I laughed all that weekend.

After retrieving my personals, we got a bite to eat at some hole-in-the-wall burger place, and drank a bit more too - each of us telling our life stories.

He was… rough around the edges – having been kicked out of Johns Hopkins for allegedly cheating. He finished med school elsewhere and completed a residency in Internal Medicine. Before starting a fellowship in Boston for Nephrology – he had been fired from a previous position which he didn't entirely disclose.

As I had mentioned to him, I was fresh out of med school, about to do my first residency in Internal Medicine. And as it happened…I was headed to Boston for it myself after the conference. Unlike his tendency for getting bounced from school to school, job to job, I coursed through my regular education rather quickly – skipping two grades. Medical school went by understandably slower – but I still achieved above average marks.

House laughed and called me a "whiz kid". I conceded that, continuing my story.

While still in med school, I met Sam, my then new ex-wife. We fell in love at her cousin's wedding, and were married the following year. Making a marriage work through the rigors of school proved difficult, and we were very poor, despite my working two jobs to make ends meet. Our fights would always center on that I was too busy for her, I was never home enough. This seemed a tall accusation coming from her… as she merely went to school and brought in no additional income.

To make matters worse, familial troubles were also starting to come to a head. Back home in New Jersey, my brother Danny, a schizophrenic, who had called me constantly while at school to complain about mistreatment throughout the year, suddenly disappeared from Princeton – without his medication.

Distraught, my parents called on me to try and find him, and I felt it was my duty to. I blamed myself for not being around enough… and had been the one he was last in contact with. I scoured the Princeton area homeless shelters – hoping he'd turn up – but to no avail.

My constant trips to Princeton drove Sam over the edge. She got increasingly more selfish. There was never any peace – she always made me out to be the bad guy. As hurt as I was, I fought like hell to make it work, as I really did love her. Whether or not she loved me…now that was questionable.

House and I exchanged contact information before leaving the conference. In the months ahead, amidst divorce proceedings, he hired a lawyer to help me try to get the charges in New Orleans straightened out. Due to a misunderstanding, I never appeared to address the charges in court.

While in Boston, I met a pretty up and coming real estate agent named Bonnie. Hard on the rebound, I fell fast, and we were married before the beginning of 1992. House knew her because she helped him secure his apartment while he worked on his fellowship – but thought the quick courtship and marriage between us was doomed.

Our marriage crumbled after just four years, and again House was there at the dissolution of it. I admitted my shortcomings – and Bonnie was different from Sam in that she admitted hers. We rushed into things; I had been lost, lonely, and preoccupied. She went right along with it when she could have spoken up.

Around this time House moved to Princeton and reconnected with Cuddy – they knew each other in med school. While they had a murky romantic past themselves, she, as the then new VP administrator at Princeton Plainsboro hired House when no one else would take him – as they felt he was a liability and a flight risk. And he is – but that doesn't make him any less of a brilliant physician.

I still kept up the hunt for my brother – though at times it grew more futile with each passing day. Despite the turmoil, I finished my double fellowship in Oncology.

That night, I got a call from House saying that Princeton Plainsboro was looking for an oncologist. I jumped at the chance… hoping it would bring me one step closer to reuniting with Danny.

I saw him once at a café after I started working for Cuddy but I wasn't quick enough to catch him. As I explained to Kate, I eventually gave up trying to find him.

All while this had been going on, I dated around. I went out with a girl named Beth, but it didn't last long. I fell hard, and she didn't feel the same. Once again… reeling and on the rebound…I met a green-eyed secretary named Julie while at the supermarket. She was struggling to reach the milk on the top shelf in the dairy section.

House critically joked that lightning couldn't strike twice – but learning nothing from my relationship with Bonnie – what I had with Julie was very much a whirlwind romance and we married just two months after meeting.

This marriage lasted three years. I spent a lot of time at work and with House – which invariably put a strain on the relationship between us, as did her affair. One night after poker, I caught her in our bed with a contractor from the firm where she worked… and filed for divorce the following day.

I stayed single for a long time after that. House advised me to not support my relationships on my loneliness or my partner's want.

"You eat neediness." He told me. "Which is not a basis for marriage!"

I shrugged him off, assuring him I was staying off the radar indefinitely at that point.

* * *

The regime at the hospital was evolving. Vogler was out; Wells was in as Chairman of the Board. Along with him came a whole new pick of residents and fellows, and the nursing staff changed hands as well.

Cuddy thought, and Wells agreed, that with the hospital gaining notoriety and strength that the staff should be sturdy enough to support it. Fresh blood was needed.

Betty was the last of the nurses to retire. She had served us well. Cuddy immediately placed an ad looking for a new Oncology nurse. There was quite a booming response…the stack of résumés grew by the week. The applicants behind them, however…proved disappointing. Despite their backgrounds some had fudged their contact hours; others didn't show up to interview.

After a particularly disheartening day, Cuddy picked up one of the last few papers in the stack.

"This young lady's name is Kate Medeiros." She said. "And, she's the youngest applicant yet."

"How old is she?" I asked.

"Twenty-eight." She replied. "She comes highly regarded though."

My curiosity piqued, she brought the document over, pointing out her credentials.

"She volunteered at a nurses' station in her hometown of Fall River, Massachusetts at seventeen. Graduated summa cum laude a year early from Roger Williams University in Rhode Island. Enrolled in the nursing program at Jersey College at twenty-one – graduated in the top ten of her class – achieved the highest possible scores on all of her boards and certification tests…"

"She's more than qualified." I said. "By all means, call her!"

I was eager to meet her based on her body of work thus far…but when I saw her as she arrived for her interview…something entirely different took hold.

Not only was she highly intelligent, she was stunning! Her dress sense was unlike anything I had ever seen. She looked like a character out of the film noir stories I loved. She had eyes like Ava Gardner's – sparkling and intense – paired with a sweet, genuine smile. Nerves were nowhere prevalent…even though I suspected on some level she must have felt them. I couldn't look away.

"No." I heard House say flatly, noticing my unbroken stare. "She's a child, Wilson!"

"She is not." I defended. "And what hints that I'm interested?"

"The lovesick look on your face, for one." He said. "You are not going to make your new nurse into the fourth Mrs. Wilson. If you try it I'll tell her myself."

"Like hell." I said, annoyed at his implication. I was allowed to have a crush! "Besides, you don't know for sure if Cuddy's going to hire her…"

"She will if you have anything to say about it." he said, limping off.

I shook my head, returning to work.

A couple of hours later, Cuddy knocked on my door.

"I really like Kate. She's everything she says she is on paper and more – she has a real eagerness to work and a thirst for knowledge." She said.

"Good." I said, smiling. "So what's the verdict?"

"I'd like to hire her. I just wanted to run it by you as well as you're going to have the most contact with her." She explained.

"I trust you. If you think she's worthy of the position… then hire her." I said.

House was right. It was my consent that got her the job…but it wasn't just because of her looks. I truly felt she'd be an asset to the department with her glowing track record.

* * *

He came up to me the morning of her first shift. "Just met her. She's more of a mouse than a woman. She's a perfect match!"

I sighed. "What were you doing in Cuddy's office anyway? Trying to shirk clinic duty again?"

He shot me a look of fake offense. "Why, Wilson! I'd never do such a thing!"

"Yeah, right." I said with a wry smile, stopping off at pathology with him following. "Still doesn't answer my question."

"You got me." He said. "I'm making Chase my lackey for another week. Ten bucks says you end up with a date by the end of your shift today."

"A bet… you are going to lose." I smiled, returning to the office.

Around lunch time I heard Cuddy's voice in the hall.

"Oh good, he's here. I'll let him know you've arrived."

The door opened, and she asked if I had a moment to spare. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Kate waiting patiently, looking more nervous but still as cute as ever.

I came out and introduced myself, and when I ever heard her speak – her voice flowed like honey, and had a slightly deep timbre. I kept composure… but my god it was difficult!

Cuddy suggested we get better acquainted over lunch – but it didn't happen. After I finished the pathology reports I was working on, Marie, an eighty-seven year old breast cancer patient, was having an allergic reaction to the course of chemo I had given her – the third time that month. Methotrexate, Cladribine, and the most current one, 6-MP… nothing worked. I put her on Cytoxan, and sat with her until the medicine started to take effect and she relaxed.

Kate was already through with her lunch by the time I reached her, and though work took precedence, I did feel bad for standing her up in a manner of speaking. I apologized, explaining what happened, but she thoughtfully put the focus on my patient rather than herself.

When I saw the remnants of her quite meager meal, I immediately felt sorry for her, and offered to buy her lunch the next day. I was doing it to show kindness, but the more I looked at her and got to know her, the deeper I was falling. I guess… old habits do die hard.

Afterward, House found me again. He was convinced I had feelings for her now. I wasn't about to let him have the satisfaction, and quickly denied it. Knowing House as I do, I should have known that was futile.

His lack of trust in pretty much the whole of humanity somehow planted the seed that the small meal was a ruse to suck me in and she was better off financially than she let on. I didn't believe that for a minute.

I knew he was only trying to in his own way protect me… more than likely so he'd have my undivided attention. But, his doubt and speculation were at times maddening.

Over the next few days, she proved that she was no mouse, as House had said. She too…had a rough lot in life. Losing her father, going broke trying to get through school…I sympathized with her in more ways than one. She never once let the obstacles in her path defeat her, a trait which I found extremely admirable. I was touched that she felt like she could open up to me so soon.

The night she saved Marie, though…was the night she proved for certain that she was a force to be reckoned with. The Cytoxan I had given Marie met the same fate as the medicines before it – her body rejected it outright – with the worst allergic reaction I had seen yet. To this day I don't know how Kate thought so quickly on her feet – to give her the 5-FU. She put everybody in that room to shame – myself included. It even impressed House – even if he wasn't outwardly doing cartwheels over the event.

The young woman was all heart… and it showed. The compassion she gave Marie, and all of the other patients - improved their conditions in leaps and bounds. On her days off, they'd always ask where their "ray of sunshine" was, and when she'd be back. No nurse before her had ever been taken to so warmly.

I was known as a workaholic in the hospital…and while that status remained with absolute veracity…my thoughts when not on my work were all about Kate. Our personalities jived well, we understood each other and more and more I wondered what being in a relationship with her would be like. It had been a fleeting thought when I first saw her and we subsequently met…but now it became something that spurned me on. I flirted with her subtly, and I swore for the entire world that she did the same with me.

When I could no longer stand the nag of 'what if', I boldly asked her out to dinner the afternoon of her very long second day. I had as much trepidation in my heart as when I tried to ask out Melanie Robbins in high school. Did older men appeal to her? Was she against dating her boss?

The elation I felt when she said yes! I was immediately swept up in the romance of it all. I hadn't felt this way about anyone in years.

Our first date was perfect – from the most elegant manner in which she was dressed…to that rich, beautiful voice of hers saying my name and ordering in French. The kiss goodnight, though chaste, was longed for.

On that date, I mentioned the board meeting coming up. I felt that given the strength she showed earlier that day, she was more than ready to assert herself in front of the bigwigs. She never once gloated, and instead again tried to take the spotlight off of herself.

She was skittish to allow the news of our relationship to become known. She didn't want people to stop taking her seriously, which was something she prized. I thought the lengths she went to…to maintain secrecy were overblown. I put a stop to her taking the bus on the coldest day of the winter. I didn't give a damn about what it looked like to anyone else. All that mattered was her comfort and safety.

House, naturally, picked up on the relationship. I asked him how he knew. He told me that he wasn't an idiot – and proceeded to continue to tell me not to get involved.

"You're not going to sprint through this, too. You have to stop before it starts." He said. "Trouble is, Captain Needy has already struck and saved the day!"

"House…" I began.

"She deserves to know what she's getting into. Who in their right mind asks someone out after two days? Regardless, either you tell her about your wives, or I will. I know that Kate and I didn't get off on the right foot, and while I still don't completely trust her, she is a good worker. You owe her the truth." He left without another word.

Again, he was right. I had been a loser in love and I knew it as well as he did. It was so soon in the start of Kate and I, though, that I knew dropping a bomb that huge would no doubt send her running. I couldn't lose her. She was different from any woman I had ever met. She had this fire about her that I craved.

She impressed me on our second date – a movie night at my place – when she prepared dinner. Was there anything she couldn't do?

The closer I held her, the more I realized. I was in love; more in love than I'd been with Sam, Bonnie, Beth, or Julie combined. I felt like she could be the one – that at long last I'd get it right.

The kisses we shared had more passion, and again…I got so caught up that I blurted how I felt without thinking – without saying the word itself.

Her reaction wasn't the one I had hoped for. I scared her. The drive home in silence was terrifying. I so badly wanted to know what was on her mind…but kept my mouth shut as I didn't want to make things worse.

God, if I couldn't tell her I loved her – how the hell would she react to my marriages?

I didn't sleep well that night at all. I fought the temptation to call her or text her. She said she'd call me. I had to respect that, as badly as it drove me crazy.

Probably against my better judgment, I texted her the following afternoon. I feared her response. I feared rejection. I breathed a sigh of relief when she sent a kind message back. I was surprised, though, that she had turned the blame for the night before on herself._ I_ was the one that was falling all over _her_. I assured her of her innocence on the matter.

She blew me away again at the board meeting…showing the confidence I knew she had within her. Her ideas to better the hospital and the fundraiser were pure genius. It didn't seem possible to be any more in awe of her – but she happily proved me wrong.

Behind closed doors, House was still putting pressure on me to reveal my past. I kept insisting I'd tell her eventually, that I'd find the right time.

"How long are you gonna drag this on?" he asked me bluntly before the meeting. "The longer you wait the worse it's going to be."

He was correct again. To the point where it was almost annoying. He knew I was in love – why couldn't he let me enjoy it for a little while?

When he insinuated trouble in front of her – the look I gave him was murderous. She wasn't going to find out publicly like that.

"I said I would tell her, damn it!" I yelled at him privately. "Stop trying to out me before it's time."

"Are you afraid of getting your heart broken again, Wilson? Is that it?" he asked, his tone level. "So afraid that you have to break hers to save yourself? Because that's low even for you."

"Go to hell." I seethed, catching up with Kate.

All throughout planning the fundraiser, I let House's pearls of wisdom fall to the wayside. My love for her was growing so strong now that I refused to let anything spoil it. I kept thinking less of ways to deal with my demons and more of ways of ensuring she'd stay.

My giving her the promise ring was not disingenuous. I thought that nearly three months was a good time, that I was moving slowly. I had walked down the aisle in less time than that.

When we made love after the ball, I knew I was in deep. She trusted me completely – finally said the words I had been yearning to hear. She had already introduced me to Christine, her closest friend, and we hit it off – next was her mother. The seeds of something wonderful were flowering – I couldn't bear to hurt her at such a crucial time. I enjoyed having her sleep beside me. I could envision it for the next forty years or so. I was so consumed with my passion that I let it slip that I wanted to marry her someday. As the words left my lips I could hear House calling me an idiot in my head. My darling Kate… ever so quick…played it off with a quip and a smile.

I enjoyed that regardless of what we did – whether it was fancy or low-key – I could be myself with her. Being with her in general…was the easiest thing in the world.

I also knew that the rumor mill at work was keen for news of us. Cuddy herself had gotten wind of it – and thankfully – approved. It was a mistake to let the gossip reach her ears, though.

True to her enduring spirit…Kate never let me know when something was bothering her or if anyone was giving her a problem. She'd always assure me she was fine when I knew otherwise. But she'd be right by my side when I was down, always with a hug and a comforting, truthful word. It's one of the many reasons I love her.

The week of Spring Equinox was the week from hell. I lost a patient and friend, and also the love of my life.

It's never easy when a patient dies. And especially in Oncology, the nature of the treatment all but demands that you become close with them. Though Frank's prognosis turned from grim to better to grim again…I had hopes for remission. But it was not to be. It wasn't the first time I had been to a memorial service or funeral for a patient, either. But the sorrow I felt was easier to bear with her by my side.

The look of anger and pain on her face when I confirmed that what she heard about my marriages was true… gutted me to my soul. The sound of her tears smashed my heart. It hurt me that I had no idea Sophie was bullying her in the first place. It hurt even more that I was too cowardly to tell Kate the truth. Christine was right about that. There was always another excuse, one more day, to put it off. I wasn't sparing her, I was running. House was right too. I was too focused on what was lost to me in the past that I destroyed the one thing I held dear. Though my knee-jerk reaction was to stop her… to attempt to explain and beg forgiveness…she had every right to leave.

I sat at my desk after watching her retreating back… numb… staring at the ring which belonged on her hand. I felt sick – not knowing whether to retch, scream, or cry. This couldn't be happening again. Not four times in a row. More important than winning Kate back was her well being. I worried for her now. All I wanted to do was hold and soothe her – but I knew it was the last thing she'd want.

She was a lot like me in that way. The world can be crashing around our ears and we're dying inside…and we try to put on a brave face to mask the internal war…but try as we might it ekes its way out.

The days and weeks ahead were going to be a fierce storm to weather.

* * *

I plodded through the remainder of the day's work – including the things that Kate didn't manage to finish. I refused to be alone with my thoughts, so after the regular stuff was done I got a jump on charting. The hours just ticked by as I buried myself in tasks.

"What are you still doing here? It's 4AM." House's voice jarred me from my stupor.

"I'd ask the same of you…but I know you, so…" I countered.

He rolled his eyes. "Case kept me late." Then he trained his gaze on my desk. "You're charting. It's Wednesday, well, Thursday now. You work on charting on the weekends."

I said nothing, feigning returning to work.

"What happened with Kate?" he asked in a flat voice.

"Oh, you heard…" I said, tone level. "There's a surprise."

"The last time you stayed late when you didn't have to was when you started having problems with Julie. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together." He pointed out.

I couldn't ignore him any longer. "Kate… dumped me."

"You're an idiot." He scolded. "I told you, you waited too long."

"I…didn't tell her." I said, running a hand through my hair.

"Then who did?" he pressed.

I sighed. "Sophie."

"The bitchy nurse?" he asked. "You're even more of an idiot! Why the hell did you let Kate find out from someone else – but most of all _her_?"

"You were right." I said dejectedly. "I was scared. I didn't want my heart broken again so I did the worst thing I could do…I broke hers instead."

He set his bag and cane down, sitting across from me. "So you're an idiot and a coward."

"Been already called that once today." I said.

"You called her?" he groaned. "Wilson, _come on_."

"To be fair…Kate didn't speak to me. Christine did." I revealed.

His tone was sarcastic. "Her blonde bombshell bestie, nice."

I toyed with the ring again, which didn't escape his notice.

"Engagement's off too, I see." He quipped.

I huffed a breath through my nose. "It's not a…"

"I know that!" he snapped. "Once again Saint Wilson the Patron Saint of Divorce has masqueraded as a marathon runner in the arena of love."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Oh sure, get mad at me!" he yelled. "Keep running, keep hiding! Keep evading! And you'll end up alone just like you fear!"

"Get out." I seethed.

He needed no further prompting, picking up his belongings and limping away.

"Don't expect me to help you this time." He said at the door, a touch calmer. "This is your mess to clean up. I'm done."


	18. Chapter 18 - Brave Face

_Chapter 18: Brave Face  
_

My eyes went wide as she stalked away from my handbag after the terse phone call. "Well, I think that put the fear of God in him."

Christine's voice was still a little heated as she sat down beside me. "He deserved it and you know it!"

"No doubt." I agreed. "He'll probably not be able to face me at work tomorrow."

"Stupid bastard." She muttered. "You _are_ going to keep things strictly business for the foreseeable future, right?"

"Yeah. Maybe permanently. I don't know. I was so angry in the thick of the moment I never wanted to see him again. But given my employment situation I knew that was impractical." I said.

She rested her chin on her palm. "It just goes to show – men will never be men. They're just little boys in grown up clothes!"

"Ehh. It's the whole 'Women are from Venus, men are from Mars' argument." I said. "And it's one I really can't muster up the strength to have right now."

"You're right." She admitted. "I'm sorry, today is already such a mess."

I let out a heavy sigh. "It's okay…"

"Hey! There's always our fail safe plan of living together as old bitties with a bunch of teacup dogs and rabbits!" she joked.

"What about Cody?" I laughed.

"He's not much of a conversationalist – even as friendly as we are. Even a gin and tonic didn't loosen him up!" she said.

"It takes one hell of a guy to keep pace with you!" I chuckled.

She laughed harder than I did. "It's true!"

The happy respite proved short as I soon became tired from the day's events.

"You sure you don't wanna stay? It's not good to be alone during these things…" she said when I yawned.

"Nah. I think it's better if I just sleep it off at home." I said.

"You're sure?" she asked in a final attempt to change my mind.

"Yes." I said with a half-hearted smile. "I appreciate your concern, but really, I'll be all right. No man – no matter how good looking, well intentioned, or callous is going to bring me down for long."

* * *

Either I was a good actress due any day for her Oscar, or a terrible liar.

The minute I got home I lost it again, the reality of the breakup hitting the hardest it had all day.

I tore into the bedroom, shoving the picture of us, and his sweatshirt, into the deepest part of one of my dresser drawers. I was ill at ease to look at either one.

Still in tears, I ripped through the kitchen cabinets, re-organizing them. When that did nothing to quell the misery, I scrubbed the grout in the bathtub with an old toothbrush. I spent the entire night cleaning my apartment with excessive precision.

* * *

The next morning was brutal – my entire body ached as I struggled to dress and put on my makeup. I didn't even bother with my full usual, putting only mascara on my eyes and a light stain of red on my lips.

I put on a brave face as I walked through the hospital doors – giving James – I mean, Dr. Wilson – a curt greeting when I entered the office – only speaking to him throughout the day if I absolutely had to.

He had to have been hurting too – but it was his fault! He needed to understand the level of pain I felt, even if I refused to show it. As we worked in tense silence, every now and again his gaze would flit up from the paperwork to my face. He looked lost, hollow.

Deciding I couldn't bear it another minute, I holed myself up in the lab – cell analysis and tissue samples my new companions.

* * *

I spent more and more time running labs in the weeks that followed, only going into the office to deliver and retrieve files, as well as update them. I made rounds, and picked up extra shifts whenever I could, many of them overnights. Sometimes I ate, most of the time I didn't. I hardly slept on the rare occasion I was home. I only went out of the house to run errands on my days off - assuring Christine and my mother both that nothing was amiss.

Existing on autopilot came naturally to me in times of crisis.

My resolve started to crack in early April, when signs appeared of the physical toll the emotional turmoil was taking. As I did with my mother and Christine, I told anyone who asked how I was that I was all right. Even House brought it up one afternoon – two weeks since the split.

"You're pushing yourself too hard." He told me gruffly.

"No I'm not." I insisted. "I have a lot of work to do. Now if you'll excuse me…" I tried to move past him but he stopped me.

"When was the last time you've eaten something? Or slept?" he pressed.

"None of your business – I'm doing just fine." I snapped, turning away from him to reach for a binder from one of the top shelves at the nurses' station.

"Cut the crap." He said. "You look like the human equivalent of a toothpick, and the bags under your eyes may as well be a full set of luggage by now."

"What's it to you?" I countered. "It's not like you care."

His jaw set, then released, and he pulled me aside to speak somewhat more privately.

I crossed my arms. "House… I have…"

"Look." He cut me off. "I know Wilson was an ass to you but…"

"It's not like you and I are best buddies, either." I interjected.

"Will you let me finish?" he asked, a little annoyed. "I want you to know I'm not helping him. He's an idiot when it comes to relationships – he needs to find his own way out of this."

"You knew about his divorces, though. You could have told me!" I hissed.

"You don't think I tried?" he fought to keep from yelling. "All those times I alluded to his past he stopped me! I thought you deserved to know what, and who, you were getting involved with. He's had a hard life, but a lot of that is his own doing."

I started to feel light headed. "But Wils…"

I felt my feet go out from under, but my body didn't hit the floor.

"I NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!" I heard House bellow as everything went black.


	19. Chapter 19 - Knight In Rusty Armor

_Chapter 19: Knight in Rusty Armor_

House's shouting jarred me from the CT scan results I was reviewing – and I ran out of the office at the ensuing commotion – stopping dead in the middle of the hall to see him holding Kate's unconscious body.

_Oh God…no…_

Feeling the color drain from my face, I ran the rest of the way to their side – just as she was being lowered onto a gurney bound for the emergency room.

I followed it, the team of fellows, and House to the first floor, my blood boiling now as I grabbed him at the double doors.

"What did you do to her?!" I heard myself yell. A couple patients waiting in the nearby clinic jumped.

"Me?" he sneered. "You're the reason she fainted!"

I was horrified. "What…?"

"You really are thick!" he growled. "Have you not noticed that your nurse has been running herself into the ground ever since you went Splitsville?"

"Of course I have!" I yelled. "I wanted to help her but she won't let me! She's been cooped up in the lab all this time…"

"Because you couldn't grow some balls and tell her the truth!" he yelled back.

I looked away from him and into the E.R., jaw set. He huffed through his nose, stalking off.

I sat in one of the plastic chairs in the waiting area, burying my face in my hands.

* * *

An hour went by, and Dr. Cameron emerged into the hallway. I frowned, as I knew she was the attending physician.

"Cameron…what…where's Dr. Lee?" I asked. Dr. Lee was the head of the Emergency Department.

"He's helping Kate get settled in a room to rest." She said softly. "You're aware of what happened to her…"

"Yeah…" I sighed, feeling progressively guiltier. "She fainted upstairs. House got her…"

"You owe him one." She said. "She was really bad off."

The color drained from my face for the second time that afternoon. "What's wrong?" I asked softly, tears stinging at my eyes.

"When we revived her, we found out she hasn't eaten a solid meal for two weeks…almost three. She's been drinking water, but food…she'd eat a couple of crackers or a few grapes, and that was it. And even then that wasn't every day." She said, and I immediately felt sick. "And on top of being malnourished, the bags under her eyes indicate she hasn't slept either for about that long. The average weight for someone of her height and build is one hundred and twenty pounds. She weighed one hundred and fifteen just now."

I started to cry. "Had that gone on much longer we could have lost her…"

Cameron reached forward to hug me.

"It's all my fault…" I murmured.

She pulled back, frowning up at me. "What do you mean?"

"Kate and I…were dating." I said. "And…I screwed up. She dumped me. And though I knew it was hurting her more than she was letting on…she insisted she was fine to everyone that asked. I wanted to help her, Cameron…god, I tried. But she wouldn't let me in. She's been holed up in the pathology lab and when she's not there… she's worked at least three overnights in the past couple of weeks, and stayed late otherwise."

The look on her face was pure shock. "Working overtime along with everything else…" she breathed.

I nodded. "When can I see her?"

Just then her cell phone beeped, she took it out of her pocket, gazing at the screen. "Not for a while yet. She's being set up for IV fluids – they're having trouble finding a vein even with a tourniquet. I'll keep you posted. Excuse me…" she said, opening the door.

"Let me help. I…" I began

"We've got it." She assured me.

I wiped my eyes as she spoke again.

"Wilson?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope you guys work it out."

I sniffled, smiling a little. "Thanks."

* * *

Another thirty minutes went by before I was told I could visit. Work could wait. The thoughts running through my head stopped when I saw her… pale, tiny and fragile in the bed. The room was dead quiet except for the sound of the machines and the IV drip.

As I got closer, I could hear the shallow, soft sound of her breathing. It took almost killing herself to get her to sleep. It angered me that she'd thought so little of her own well being – but I was also angry with myself that it was my behavior that drove her to this. If I had just been able to tell her!

My life was full of could have, would have, should have. I had to make this right. For Kate.

I sat beside the bed, taking her right hand in mine. The other hand with the IV rested at her side. I ran my thumb along her skin, eventually pressing a light kiss on it.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart…" I murmured as fresh tears filled my eyes. "I was foolish to keep my past from you. I… I convinced myself that all I wanted to do was protect you…when really all I was doing was protecting myself. And from what? More than likely you wouldn't have judged me or run. You're…you're a hell of a lot stronger than I've given you credit for. Even as tortured as you were on the inside you've done your best to soldier through it. It's just…now it's caught up with you…and I can't help but feel largely responsible for hastening it. Even now, as frail as you are…I still see that strength in you. I still see the woman I fell in love with. I do love you, Kate. That's the absolute truth. You came into my life like a bolt out of the blue and I've not been the same since. I'm a happier man for it. The happiest I've been in years…"

I let myself cry a little longer, still holding her hand. Regardless of what happened to us on a personal level, I made a vow to show her just how important and loved she was…and not just by me.


End file.
